So Wrong
by Lanni55
Summary: Finally in her senior year, Bella Swan cannot wait to graduate having already experienced enough heartache and misery to last her a lifetime. But with new discoveries and old scandals coming to light, can she put to rest the mysteries and questions that have been plaguing her? AH Drabble.
1. Chapter 1

September, 2011

BPOV

~1~

Bright light shines through my eye lids as consciousness emerges. I am aware of the soft bedding beneath me as well as the aching headache I feel. In fact, I feel sore all over. Tilting my head to look around, I become alarmed when I don't recognize the room I am in. The walls are a cheery yellow, the bedding a royal blue. A large television is mounted on the wall across from me and through a doorway adjacent to me, I see a large bathroom.

As I swing my legs around to sit up, I become aware of my state of dress. The white sundress I am clothed in is up around my waist, and I am wearing no panties. A sickly chill spreads through me, my vision blackening around the sides. I peak under the covers and with a shaking hand I find my underwear. Tears cloud my vision as I come to terms with what this means.

I know for a fact I went to party last night where, let's face it, I wasn't wanted. I know that I can only remember drinking a single drink, and after that, everything is gone, almost as if that time didn't happen at all. And I know, by the soreness between my legs, I lost my virginity.

~SW~

The next few hours are disjointed. I feel as though I am in a dream. I cannot remember the drive home to the apartment my father and I share, nor do I remember what I said to my father upon entering. I remember scrubbing my skin in the shower. I remember the burning sensation as I wipe the raw, tender flesh with a towel. I remember falling listlessly into my bed, horror and anguish washing through me anew.


	2. Chapter 2

March, 2012

~2~

Setting my lunch tray down roughly, I sit beside Angela and Ben and let my bag drop to the floor. Angela cuts her eyes to me.

"What?" I exclaim.

"Nothing. _Nothing_." She whispers, trailing off.

I sometimes wonder just how frightened Angela is for me. I know for a fact if she wasn't dating Ben she would not be sitting here. With me. No one would be.

I met Ben on the first day of school this year, a day where the reality of my life could not have been more apparent. With my supposed friends ignoring me, I felt as lost as the boy standing in front of me, holding what appeared to be a school map within an inch of his nose. After Jasper, our school's psychotic jackass, bumped into him with enough force to push him into a wall of lockers, I grabbed the boy by his arm, and led him into the girl's washroom.

"_Hey! Wha… What are you doing? Are we… Are we in the _girl's bathroom_?" the boy exclaims, eyes bugging out, hands flexing and stretching at his sides._

"_Bella Swan," I calmly reply, holding out my hand. "Nice to meet you…"_

"_Ben," The boy supplies, "Ben Cheney."_

"_Well Ben, let me show you where your history class is."_

I feel a tugging on my shoulder, alerting me to the loud guffaws exploding in the cafeteria. I unwillingly turn my head towards the table in the corner, the table that I used to sit at. The only reason why I was allowed past the velvet ropes was the guy currently lounging there, holding back a snicker himself as the jackass Jasper holds a freshman's face down into a bowl of soup.

Edward Cullen.


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Hello everyone! I apologize that I forgot to mention in the first chapters that character credit obviously goes to Stephanie Meyer. Furthermore, this is my first story, so I apologize if all of the kinks with the whole publishing-delio causes you strife. Please bear with me. Thanks!

March 2012

~3~

Ben shakes his head, his brown hair flopping over his eyes, turns, and continues to nibble at his slice of pizza. I know he wishes he could buy two, but with a younger brother and a single mom, times are hard. I know about that too.

I stare at the East-Ender's table, wondering what today's bespectacled kid did to anger that fucker Jasper. I also feel a pang of sorrow watching Edward try and hold back his laughs. He wasn't always this way.

_I sit, my hand on Edward's thigh, his arm around my shoulder. Across from me, Alice, leaning on Jasper to support her shaking laughs, is telling some ridiculous story about her mother._

"_And then, _and then _she blames me for the hideous shirt going missing, and doesn't even notice that part of it is tied around Roo's neck!"_

_Edward shakes his head, hiding a bemused smile. Although he can stand Esme more than Alice, she still tries his patience, especially when it comes to me. _

_The quiet grinding of a chair alerts me to the kid sitting down at the end of our table. He looks young enough to be a freshman, with short, bleached hair and a spotted face. He gives me a shy smile before jerking his head around. Mike has just picked up his tray, setting it onto the table behind him._

"_Table's ready," Mike says, putting his hand on the boy's shoulder in a seemingly friendly move. I notice the boy cringe slightly._

"_You know what," Edward says jauntily, grabbing the tray and putting it back in front of the freshman, "You're fine where you are." He turns back to me and with a smile and a kiss, the episode is forgotten._

I turn back to my food as well. Oh how I miss Alice. That crazy, impulsive girl. I know that what she's doing is amazing, wonderful, and heroic, but I can't help but feel selfish that I don't have her _here_ with _me_.

~SW~

As my books tumble to the ground, the recognizable laughter coming from Mike Newton as he walks past me, I sigh and bend over to pick them up. I am suddenly enveloped by _his_ scent, and am shocked when Edward squats down and hands me my math and biology textbooks. He gives me a brief smile before rising and following the mass of students.

I remain there, practically on the floor, stunned. I can't help but think,

_This is the first time he has acknowledged me in eight months._


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: SM owns the stuff, I'm just playing.

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July, 2011

~4~

"Edward? Edward, please, _please_ wait. I just…I don't understand. Is it something I did?"

My hand, grasping onto his arm like a life preserver, falls away when I feel him shudder. The knife that is already cutting through my heart twists painfully. He doesn't respond, but gives me a fleeting look before turning away. The lifeless eyes, eyes that were once so bright and animated, haunt me.

~SW~

"Oh Bella, he is just being a dumbass like usual. You know the boy loves you. You know you are destined to make beautiful babies. It's probably a phase or something." Alice scoffs, turning back to the new dress she is currently modeling. "What about this one? Hot?"

~SW~

"Alice, I don't get it. Just last week you were saying how we are meant for each other. Now you think I'm better off?" I can hear the desperation in my own voice, and it scares me.

"It's just that, I mean, there are so many other guys out there. And I don't even see what's so great about Edward anyways." Alice sounds uncomfortable, her grey eyes misting. For the past three years that I've known her, I can't say I have ever witnessed her like this.

"Please Alice, tell me what happened. Is it," Oh God. "Is it someone else?"

The thought sends my mind into a tailspin. I can hardly imagine it. I was just so sure, _so sure_. Something like that, like what Edward and I had, is something I could have bet my entire life on.

I can't help but be reminded of Mom. I guess I could say I would have bet my life on her, too. Little did I know that one day she would be gone, leaving me with only a note claiming her love. _Yeah, right_.

_I wake up to the shouting again. Rolling over, I smother my head into the pillow, hoping it'll block out some of the noise. Yeah Mom, Dad's job is stressful. He is chief of police after all. Get over it. _

_Mom has been pestering Dad, saying that she doesn't like his unpredictable work hours. She wants to know when he'll be home for supper. She wants to know which nights he will be gone, and when he has to leave in the morning. I totally understand where she is coming from, but it's not like Dad can pick when crime happens, when someone is in need of his help. _

_Trying to fall back asleep, I am deluged with images of the new boy to Forks High, Edward Cullen. In my fantasy, he sees a lock of my hair, and pushing it behind my ear, he whispers. _

"Alice," I sigh, knowing she won't expand anymore on the topic, "I got to get home. You said Esme will be home at four, and I really don't want to be here when she arrives."

Alice nods distractedly. Even she admits that Esme has a special kind of dislike for the Swans, particularly me.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Belongs to SM.

March, 2012

~5~

I pull my old pickup truck into the lot, staring over to the apartment complex where my father and I live. We have an eclectic mix of people, ranging from the elderly, the newlywed, the newly arrived to America, and everything in-between. We even have a couple families with sons in our local motorcycle gang, the LPR's. I can see Sam working on his bike deep in the lot, and knowing he is too focused right now to notice me, I head into my apartment.

Dad is standing in the kitchen when I walk in, listening to the classic rock station on the radio and mixing a salad to go with the pork chops I can smell in the oven. His flannel shirt is tucked into his jeans, his thinning hair outshined by the mustache adorning his top lip.

He lights up when he sees me.

"Hey, Honey!" he says, giving me a kiss on the cheek. "How was your day?"

"Better now that I see I don't have to cook." I reply, a smile in my voice.

Dad smirks. "Come on. Tonight we eat like the middle class to which we aspire!"

I roll my eyes and we dig in.

~SW~

_I fall back, his hand holding my head to soften the blow. My legs are wrapped around his hips, feet pressed into the back of his thighs. My hands are moving, trying to touch as many parts of him as I can reach in the confines of his car. His mouth is devouring mine, sending sparks shooting through each nerve ending in my body. _

_I can feel my shirt riding up, his hand pressed onto the hot skin at the small of my back. I can't help but think that this is what heaven must feel like, that this is something I could do for an eternity. His eyes burn into mine with love and adoration, reflecting everything that I know._

_I slide my hand up his thigh._

"Edward!" I shoot up in bed.

My power-nap after supper has quickly turned into a long, deep sleep, waking me up in the middle of the night. I know it is unlikely that I will fall back asleep anytime soon. My wandering eyes fall onto the boxes hidden at the top of my closet.

Mom's things.

I haven't touched them since she split almost two years ago.

Slipping out of bed, I reach up and grab the first box. Inside I find a picture of her and I, arms wrapped around each other, enormous grins in place. I crumple it up, and toss it into the waste basket.

At the bottom of the box is a tiny envelope. Opening the flap and tipping it into the palm of my hand, a small key falls out; a key for a safe deposit box.

What would Mom need with a safe deposit box?


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Characters and setting owned by SM. Some plot ideas may come from another source...but don't give it away ;)

* * *

March, 2012

~6~

Forging a death certificate really isn't that difficult. Using a few simple computer programs, I am able to create one that the bank won't look too closely at.

Renee Alicia Swan.

Date of birth: April 18, 1969.

Date of death: June 22, 2010.

Cause of death: Car accident.

Might as well be something generic.

~SW~

The woman at the desk gives me a polite smile.

"My mother died two years ago," I supply. "Only yesterday did I find this."

Displaying the key and the forged certificate to the woman, she gives a nod and leads me through a door to her left.

I walk into the room. Walls are lined with small metal cubbies; a large wood table sits in the center of the room, two chairs pushed underneath. The woman quietly exits the room and I use my key to open box 132.

Inside, seven glossy photographs fall out.

They are pictures of me.

The day these photos were taken I can remember well. It was rainy, like most days in Forks, and I was wearing a sweater that I never, ever wore. But clean clothing was scarce, as laundry was only done when all the hampers reached their capacities.

It was also the first day Edward told me he loved me. We have been dating for over a year, but with only being fifteen when we started, it felt silly and immature to make such confessions so young. On this particular day, I was feeling like the typical self-conscious sixteen-year-old that I was. The sweater was brown and lumpy. My face was pale. I felt dreary and washed out from the rain.

But Edward, being the sweetheart he was, told me I was beautiful. That the shapeless sweater only made him more desperate to see my body, my curves.

We had been attempting to be responsible and take the physical side of our relationship slow. I had never had an orgasm before so it's not like I knew what I was missing. However, I could feel at times how problematic it was for Edward. But his restraint and commitment to me, despite my hesitancies and fears, was what solidified my trust in him the most.

The photographs were taken while Edward and I were sitting at a table outside the only café Forks has to offer, hidden from the rain by a large umbrella.

_His green eyes lock onto my brown. Every pore of my being is drawn to him. Even sitting across the small bistro table feels too far._

"_Bella," he starts, sounding nervous._

"_Hmm" I reply, my attention focused on his wayward hair, the way it gently blows in the breeze…_

"_Well, I just, Bella…Bella, I love you."_

_My brown eyes shoot up to his._

The photographs, depicting such a warm memory, are anything but.

On each photograph, a red target is placed over my smiling face.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: SM owns. Take that as you want.

* * *

March, 2012

~7~

The weekend flies by with questions remaining unanswered. I comprehend that someone threatened my mother. That someone threatened her using me. Since the photographs were taken a couple of months before she left, I can't help but think that they may be the reason.

I know I can't tell Dad about the photos. First of all, a home in which Renee isn't mentioned is a happy home. Furthermore, Dad is already protective enough. A man who has seen as much tragedy, hatred, and horror as he has can't help but be. If he saw these photos of me I'm pretty sure I'd be on lockdown, sent to Albuquerque to live with some distant relative.

The one person I desperately want share this all-consuming knowledge with is Alice. Of course, Alice volunteering in a remote Guatemalan village means she is inaccessible for another five months. She left last July, a few weeks after her graduation, and never looked back. I haven't been able to speak to her since.

Jasper took her departure the hardest. He knew that with graduation she would likely leave to attend college, and he was okay with that. But Guatemala didn't figure into his plans at all. My input, how as her best friend I didn't dissuade her from going but supported her decision despite my selfish thoughts, wasn't what Jasper expected either.

No wonder he hates me.

~SW~

While Dad works on Sunday, I excavate our house for anything of Mom's that could help me understand what the hell she was up to. There is nothing. I come to the conclusion that either she brought anything significant with her, or that the photographs were the only things that were of importance in this mystery.

School on Monday sees me in the principal's office.

"Bella, some of the teachers are saying you are losing focus in their class. That you are not engaged. Now, you are an excellent student, and your grades are very high…"

They better be. I'm working my ass off to get the Cullen Scholarship. And maybe I'm not "engaged" because most of the time I know more about the topic than the teacher does!

"…But it would be nice if you could show some interest. This is why I think you should take Journalism. The third semester just began, so it wouldn't be a big deal to switch. I don't think you can get away without being active in that class."

Mr. Brady looks pleased with himself, a smug grin hinting at the corners of his mouth.

I sigh, thank him for his help, and depart. I know all too well the students in the journalism class. The East-Enders. The richest of the rich. The ones whose parents can afford to have cooks and maids. The ones who have indoor swimming pools at their homes. Even though they can afford Ivy League schools, it doesn't mean they still don't need to pad their applications with accounts of working on the student newspaper. Thus Journalism class.

Oh, joy.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: Characters by SM.

March, 2012

~8~

Ben plops down beside me in English.

"Swan," he begins, "Angela says you weren't you in P.E. Now I know you wouldn't miss your favourite class…"

I scoff. Right. Engaging in physical activity with twenty-five teenage girls is definitely not my forte. While last year I could have said that I was friends with many of them, after my breakup with Edward, the girls showed a different side entirely.

And besides, I keep up my physical health by running every day.

"No, my dear friend. I got put in journalism instead." I roll my eyes.

Ben's eyebrows shoot up.

"Isn't Edward in that class? And Jasper?"

Of course they are. But since they were both gone for the class doing a report on the wildlife of the Olympic Peninsula, I didn't have to see them.

And besides, I can hold my own.

After the girls decided my clothes needed a flush in the toilet during the first P.E. class of the year, they got what's theirs. Let's just say they don't bother me anymore, much.

Of course, the malicious rumours that they like to spread are not something that I can control. But I tend to not pay much attention to them anyway. Besides, I only have three more months before I can leave this place, and in light of the photographs that are continuing to burn a hole in the back of my mind, I can't leave soon enough.

~SW~

Walking to my truck after school, I peek over to where Edward's Evo is parked. The windows are steamed and although I can't see anyone in the vehicle, it's not hard to imagine who Edward has with him, laid out on the back seat.

Lauren Mallory.

They began dating sometime after the Christmas holidays and to be honest, it doesn't surprise me. A teenage boy can only rebuff the advances of a girl like her, a girl with no morals or dignity, for so long. I just hope for his sake, he doesn't get a disease.

I turn back to my truck, and only then do I notice how lopsided it is. I squat down to examine the tire.

"Flat?" Someone questions behind me.

I turn, and smile as I recognize who it is. "Just like God made me."


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: SM owns.

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March, 2012

~9~

"Now Bella, I can list several guys who would have to disagree with you." Jacob admonishes.

Propping his bike up, he grabs the spare tire, wrench, and jack out of the back of my truck and gets to work.

"What are you doing here, Jake?" I inquire.

"Had to see my boy, Seth. He owes me some cash. Ya know."

While Jacob goes to school in La Push, the local reserve, Seth was expelled last year and had to be enrolled here at Forks High. Luckily, Sam also attends school in Forks, and has his back.

Being a member of the LPR—the La Push Riders—at least gives Sam and Seth some protection, some immunity. However, there has always been a feud between the East-Enders and the LPR's. While I used to belong on one side of the line, with the Cullen's and the Hale's, my priorities have definitely changed.

Having the local motorcycle gang standing behind me is undeniably useful; Jacob fixing my tire is proof of that. My police connections have also proved to be beneficial to the guys as well. It is amazing how easy it can be to con one of Dad's police buddies into dropping charges or forgetting about tickets.

Once my truck is ready to go with the small donut tire replacing my regular one, I say goodbye to Jacob, thanking him, and head home. Tonight is my night to prepare supper and I know just what to make: dessert. Nuts on sundaes count as protein, right?

~SW~

The following day, Mrs. Williams, the journalism teacher, has a new assignment for me.

"Bella, this is Karen Hunt. She is here to help organize the 25th anniversary class reunion. She would like to set up a display, and it would be great if you could help her." Mrs. Williams sounds desperate, and I can already tell that Karen Hunt is getting on her last nerve.

I offer a polite smile to Karen. "So, graduating class of '87?" I probe.

"Precisely darling." Her voice is wispy, floating as if on a cloud. I think her head is in the clouds. "A wonderful year, a wonderful class. Why don't you start with the yearbook; see if there are any good photos we can enlarge."

She hands me her copy of the 1987 yearbook, pristine and perfect like the day she got it.

Flipping through with as much interest as I can garner, I freeze on the page entitled, "Homecoming".

"Did you know her?" I say, pointing to the girl wearing the Homecoming crown. My voice is tight, and it is hard to force the words through my throat.

"Renee Higginbotham? Of course! She was what every other girl here wanted to be. Homecoming Queen, high school sweetheart to Carlisle Cullen" Karen trails off, a dreamy expression adorning her face.

I stare at her, open-mouthed, shocked.

"Why, Bella?" Karen questions. "Do you know her?"


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: Owned by SM

* * *

March, 2012

~10~

I am frozen. My world is spinning.

Renee and Carlisle?

It doesn't make any sense.

I know the Cullen's lived here a long time ago, when Edward and Alice were just toddlers. Alice had told me so on several occasions. They came back just as I was entering high school, and Alice was beginning her sophomore year.

_Navigating my way through the crowded hallways, filled with people who I swear are twice my size, I look to the small plaques beside every classroom door that indicate a number, trying to locate the one where my science class will be occurring. _

_Out of the corner of my eye I see a girl with short, black hair, spiked up in the back, longer pieces in the front falling to her face. She is very small, smaller than even me, but dresses with style, with class. In fact, I doubt that the clothing she is wearing could be found anywhere in Washington besides Seattle._

_She is talking animatedly to a boy standing across from her, using hand gestures and whole-body actions. I stifle a smile at the same time my eyes rest on the boy._

_He is really quite beautiful. Well, for a young teenager that is. His skin is smooth and clear. His copper-brown hair looks healthy and free of the hair gel other guys seem to like. His clothing too appears really expensive. He's wearing a pair of dark-wash jeans, tight enough to stay around his hips and cling to his thighs. A white tee, slightly baggy, covers up his upper half, and a dark jacket is hung from the crook of his elbow._

_The pair of them stands out more than anyone else I've seen today._

Despite my overenthusiasm for the Cullen's from the first day I met them, Renee never said anything.

Not when I became friends with Alice.

Not when I started dating Edward.

Not when I confessed to her that I loved him.

How could she not say anything? We both had loved a Cullen. Isn't that significant enough to mention?

My dad, just two years older than Renee, must have known. He must have known Carlisle back then too.

No wonder Esme hates me, hates my family. Her husband used to, according to Karen Hunt who is currently prattling on in my ear, love my mother.

"Oh, but I remember when they broke up. It devastated us girls who couldn't wait to see the beautiful children they would make." Karen sighs, continuing her long-winded speech. "But of course, you're here instead, so everything must have turned out for the best," she affirms.

I just nod numbly.


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: Stephanie Meyer gets props.

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March, 2012

~11~

Supper with Dad is a quiet affair. But if I can say anything at all about my relationship with him, it is that we are very close, and very honest. So, setting my fork down on the counter, I ask him about Renee and Carlisle.

"Bella, it was a long time ago. Your mother and I got together in our twenties, quite a while after her and Carlisle. Esme and Carlisle were already married when I met Renee." Dad explains, quietly. "Besides, she never mentioned him, not once from the time I got to know her in college. I didn't think it was necessary to mention it to you; it's in the past. I'm sure your mother felt the same way."

Picking up his forgotten fork, Dad resumes eating and I know this topic of conversation is closed.

After supper is finished, the dishes washed and the food put away, I go on my five mile run, donning the customary rain jacket over my running gear. Running allows me the time and space to think, to reason out all the wayward thoughts that consume my brain. I think about what Dad said. Considering how close I was with Alice, with Edward, I can't help but sense that neither of them knew either. Surely it would have been an interesting thing to share to say the least, and Alice was always one for basking in a piece of gossip.

"_Ooo Bella, you're going to love this one!" Alice squeals, her hand squeezing my forearm._

_I raise my eyebrows at her, silently giving her the go-ahead._

"_Jessica told me that Lauren saw Tyler Crowley coming out the boys' bathroom and his face was all red and sweaty and stuff." Alice slightly wrinkles her nose. "Anyway, she followed him and asked him what happened. You know how she has had that crush on him forever… "_

_I raise my eyebrows even higher, prompting Alice to get back on track._

"_Apparently Edward had pushed Tyler into a wall of lockers, getting into his face. Jasper had to pull him off."_

_This shocks me. "Edward? Why?"_

_I don't understand, at all. Edward sometimes comes and hangs out with Alice and me when I am at their house. He is usually pretty quiet, and very polite. In fact, I kind of think he is frightened of me._

"_Well Bella, because Tyler asked you to the fall dance, of course. You got to know of the huge crush my brother has on you. Haven't you noticed how awkward he is when you are here? It's really quite funny, actually" she finishes her story, thoroughly pleased at the stunned smile on my face._

I round the corner at the end of my street and head back to my apartment, feeling the endorphins from the run coursing through me. No, Edward and Alice must have had no idea about my mom and their dad being together, being an _item_.

And I can't help but think that if Renee and Carlisle were as unimportant and over as Dad seems to think, then why is the fact that they dated such a taboo subject, in both my household and, I assume, in the Cullen's?


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: Owned by SM

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March, 2012

~12~

During my spare period, I begin to work diligently on the paper I really should have completed last night. Thoughts of Mom and Carlisle, not to mention the cursed photographs, had clouded my mind too much to focus, even after running an extra mile. Regardless, the computer lab is usually relatively empty and fortunately right now, I am the only one present.

This changes quickly. Just as I am ready to print off my completed essay, I feel a presence behind me. Sam Uley slings his arm over the back of my chair, and squats down so that his tall, bulky frame is down to my level.

Sam took a while to warm to me when I first began to hang around La Push in October. Despite Jacob's dad being friends with mine, Sam still felt I represented the enemy, both because Charlie is the chief of police, and because of my history with the East-Enders.

Even though he now talks to me, it's not like we're really friends.

Sam leans in close before quietly speaking. "Bella, I was wondering if you could do me a favour. It's about Leah…"

Leah Clearwater is a touchy subject for anyone in La Push. When her brother Seth got expelled and had to enrol at Forks High, Leah decided to be a good older sister and follow him. The only problem was that Leah fell into the wrong crowd, at least according to the LPR's. Essentially, Leah became an East-Ender.

Worse still, Leah and Sam used to date. Although they are broken up now, Sam is still pretty protective of her, and she likes to rebel.

"…See there's this video going arou—"

Sam stops abruptly when a throat clears behind us.

Edward is standing in the doorway to the room, notebook in hand, glaring at Sam.

"Sorry," Edward mutters, "Didn't know I would be_ interrupting_. I'll come back later."

I don't understand the accusatory tone in Edward's voice until I look around and see the close proximity I share with Sam. I lean back in my chair, my eyes hardening. What business is it of Edward's anyway? It does not, or should not, concern him what I do or who I spend my time with.

Besides, Edward is not one to talk given the way he flaunts little Lauren Mallory.

I can feel my body getting warm with anger, my hands shaking slightly. Just as I am about to give Edward, whom I haven't spoken to since last July, a piece of my mind, he spins on his heel and stalks off.

Sam chuckles lightly and stands up.

"We'll chat later Swan. I can see you have your own shit to handle. I'll see what I can do about Leah on my own." Whatever that entails sobers Sam up, turning the smile that was on his face a moment ago into a deep, worried frown.

Before I can speak, intrigued by what Sam came in to tell me, or ask of me, he leaves the computer lab too.

I sigh heavily, releasing the last dregs of anger still humming under my skin, and print off my essay.


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: Content and characters belong to their respected authors, i.e. Stephanie Meyer.

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March, 2012

~13~

I sit at lunch, apple in hand, a sandwich untouched between my resting forearms. I am zoned out, staring off to where Jessica Stanley, Tanya Denali, and Lauren Mallory are perched, giggling with their heads together. All three are bottle blond, hair straightened and falling to mid-back, and wearing tight t-shirts over their severely padded bras.

I've seen them in the locker room. I know what's up.

Looking at them now, after everything, it's amazing that I was ever friends with them for so long. I think my head was just so clouded with Edward Cullen that I ignored how fake and plastic these girls were, are. I guess my breakup with Edward did one thing positive; it reminded me of who I am, brought my head back down to earth.

Of course, the first day of school this year made my place in this social jungle abundantly clear.

_Timidly, I walk through the doors of Forks High. Since breaking up with Edward in July, as well as Alice leaving, I haven't spent much time with any of my school friends, and I really hope it's not awkward or anything. I hope that they understand I just needed some alone time, some time to collect myself._

_But I'm worried. Without Alice here, and without Edward, who has been by my side for so much, I feel lost. Trying to boost my self-confidence, I put extra time and energy into my hair this morning, and I'm wearing brand new clothes._

_Walking down the main hallway, I notice a small crowd surrounding the area where the locker I have had for the past three years is. Pushing my way through, I immediately see the defacement my locker has sustained. 'SLUT' is written in bold, red paint across the locker door. Red paint drips down and pools on the floor._

_My face feels hot. Unwanted tears cloud my vision and a lump has formed in my throat, making it difficult to swallow. The crowd, so boisterous and loud only moments ago, has fallen silent. I look through the faces, picking Jessica, Lauren, and Tanya out immediately. They are standing together, noses in the air, eyes lit with amusement. _

_I turn away, only to face Jasper Hale. The boy I once did almost everything with, back when he, Alice, Edward, and I were inseparable, is laughing. _

_The tears spill over._

Angela, quietly sitting beside me, notices where I am gazing. She rests her hand lightly on my arm, squeezes, and, when I turn to her, gives me an understanding smile. Despite not fully opening up to me, still intimidated by my tough exterior, I am so lucky to have her.

~SW~

I sit at a small bistro table of the Forks Café, the same table I sat at almost an entire year ago with Edward. I am trying to determine where the photographer would have been to get the correct angle of the photographs. I have narrowed the field of possibilities to the small butcher shop across the street or the other café table not far off.

Just as I am taking the photographs out from my messenger bag to get another look, the chair across from me slides out.

Jasper Hale sits down, his eyes cold stones in his skull.


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: I know you guys have lots of questions, but don't worry. They will be answered in time, just enjoy the ride.

Disclaimer: SM owns

* * *

March, 2012

~14~

I stare impassively at Jasper. "Is there something I can help you with, Jasper?" I question, skipping over pleasantries. I have too much to think about and do to waste my time on him.

"I saw you sitting out here alone. There's a first now, isn't it?" Jasper smirks sarcastically. Yeah Jasper, I have few friends. What-the-hell-ever. Being alone is much better than hanging around with the likes of Mike Newton like you do.

When I don't say anything in return, he relaxes slightly, resting his chin on his left hand. "So," he begins, sounding slightly despondent. "Has she contacted you?"

By _she_ I know he means Alice.

My face softens ever so slightly. "Jasper… you know she isn't able to contact anyone. Besides, if she could, don't you think you would be at the top of the list?"

"Nah. I doubt it."

"Alice loved you, Jasper."

"Bella, Alice loved boys. She may have loved me, but it wasn't enough. It wasn't as much as I loved her."

This is the most Jasper has said to me all year, and I can't keep the surprise off my face when I realize how much he is opening up. To me.

"What do you mean by 'Alice loved boys'? I don't understand…"

Jasper explodes, his body tensing, fist slamming down on the table. "She was cheating on me! With fucking Jacob Black." He notices the astonishment evident on my face.

_What?_

"Shit, like you don't know?" He scoffs. "She told you everything. You're friends with the fucker. Don't give me that."

I am speechless. Entirely and utterly speechless.

Jasper stares at me speculatively. My face must convey the truth because a long moment later, he hesitantly whispers, "You really didn't know?"

I shake my head, mutely.

"Damn, Bella." Jasper suddenly looks stricken, the fist that was laying forgotten on the table grasps his blond hair tightly. "Shit. I thought you did. I thought you were in on it. Covering up for her. Fuck. And the shit I've done to you this year, all that _shit_. I was just so angry Bella. The entire fucking school thinks you cheated on Edward, that you're some kind of whore, and makes your life miserable. And it's my fault. _Fuck_."

I stand up abruptly, my chair falling back.

"Well Jasper, that's what happens when you jump to conclusions," I reply bitterly. "Have a nice day."

With that, I leave Jasper sitting at the table, grief evident on his face.

My destination: the butcher shop.

* * *

A/N: See, perhaps Jasper isn't too bad of a guy ;)


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: Happy Canada Day to you Canadians out there. Enjoy the fireworks, I know I will!

And.. the usual disclaimer applies.

* * *

March, 2012

~15~

Standing in line at the butcher shop, a few people ahead of me waiting to purchase their chicken or beef, I deliberate everything Jasper said.

Before my conversation with Jasper, I had assumed his hatred of me stemmed from my lack of participation in convincing Alice to not go to Guatemala. Now I know better. No wonder Jasper did such a one-eighty this year. Alice had betrayed him. He assumed I did as well.

_Oh, Alice_.

As guilty as I feel thinking it, I don't doubt Jasper in his claims. Alice is so full of life, of energy. Nothing was too risky or hazardous for her. She would have cliff-dived like the boys at La Push if she had the chance. Hell, maybe she did.

Alice's craziness and impulsivity had made me love her, had made everyone love her. The excitement and energy that she embodied could affect anyone in her presence. It was exhilarating. Beautiful.

But her personality caused problems too. I can just imagine how broken Edward was when she left, or how hard it was on her parents to see their little girl depart on a risky venture. The hurt she caused Jasper is paramount, and her decisions have hurt me as well.

If only Alice could have looked past her own daring thoughts and saw how she was affecting the people she loved, the people who loved her. Maybe she would have stayed, attended college. Got a job. Maybe she would have explained why I was suddenly ignored by Edward, or told me about her tryst with Jacob Black. Shit, maybe she could have seen how much Jasper cared for her before she decided to betray that trust.

For the first time, as I think objectively about Alice, I can't help but notice how similar she is to my mother. Renee had an unruly soul too, always laying everything on the line, always making too many decisions with her heart, not her head. Despite my anger at her desertion, there are so many things I want to tell her, questions I want to ask her. I wonder when I will get the chance.

Deep in contemplation, I jump when the woman at the desk alerts me that it is my turn.

She is young, probably around my age, with long brown hair not unlike my own. She gives me a customary smile that quickly changes when I launch into my tale.

I know what I am about to ask for is a long shot. Just because someone was taking pictures of me from this location does not mean they bought anything, let alone with a credit card that would allow me to identify them. The chances are slim that the store would even keep the receipts from almost a year ago when the pictures were taken.

But I'm going to try anyway.

"I need to know who was here on April thirteenth of last year. Do you keep receipts from that long ago? You see," I hold up the threatening photographs, "I have a stalker."


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: Characters owned by Stephanie Meyer

* * *

March, 2012

~16~

A small pile of receipts has formed beside me as I methodically check the names of everyone that purchased meat at J&J Butchers on April the thirteenth. Lucky for me, the small business keeps its receipts two full years for tax purposes, and even more fortunately, a time stamp is provided next to the date.

Edward and I had been to the café around 4:00 PM, a short time after school let out. We had sat and talked for over an hour.

"_Where do you see yourself after graduation Edward?"_

"_With you…" Edward teases, his hand absentmindedly drawing designs on my thigh. _

_I sigh. Does he not understand that while he can afford to go to any school in the Continental US, my options are limited? That if I don't get some sort of scholarship, its community college for me?_

_A cop's salary is pretty limited after all._

_Edward pokes me lightly in the ribs and seeks out my eyes. "Smile my beautiful girl. Nothing will go wrong. I won't let it."_

Finding the receipts that fall under that date and then that time period took the better part of an hour, but now, as I check the names each credit-card purchasing consumer left on the white slips of paper, I feel like I'm trying to find a needle in a haystack. Will it even be a name that I know?

A few more are tossed aside before I freeze.

_Emmett McCarty._

I know that name. Head of security for Cullen Pharmaceuticals Inc., the company that made Dr. Carlisle Cullen and his family wealthy beyond reason. Hell, CPI made half the people in this town millionaires when it gained success. I remember seeing Emmett McMarty, dressed in his characteristic suit, at the Cullen's house all the time. He was usually holed up in Carlisle's office, or off in some part of the enormous house that I never saw, but once he drove Alice and I to the mall for some "emergency shopping".

Emmett McCarty is not one to buy his own meat, especially not during work hours, which I assume 4:32 PM was when his purchase was made. Too bad he decided to buy his supper while obviously on an errand for Carlisle. Shit, maybe he bought something just to cover for his presence being in the butcher shop that day.

Too bad he decided to pay for it using a credit card.

And I become resolute. Whatever reason Carlisle Cullen had for scaring my mom and driving her out of town, I will find out. I cannot spend any more time in fear that something will happen to me, to my dad. I cannot be victimized by the rich bastards that infest this town any longer.

Despite my careful avoidance, thoughts of Jessica Stanley's party last September come unbidden to my head. Isn't it the classic high school tale? Girl gets bullied by rich East-Enders. Girl decides she doesn't care what they think and attends one of their parties. Girl wakes up in a bed with no underwear.

Somebody could write a fucking book.


	17. Chapter 17

Disclaimer: Characters belong to SM.

* * *

March, 2012

~17~

Sitting in history on Thursday, Ms. Baragar asks us to divide into partners.

I finish writing down the last sentence on the board, set down my pen, and finally look around. From what I can tell, everyone in the class has pushed their desks together into groups of two, some getting started on today's activity and some using the opportunity to talk about the interesting lives they lead. _Yeah, right._

My lone desk sits in the center, surrounded by all of the pairs.

_I can just feel the love._

Just when I am resigned to completing the activity on my own, a quiet voice asks, "Need a partner?"

Jasper Hale has moved to stand awkwardly beside my desk, playing with the pages of his notebook.

Right now, I'd much rather not have to acknowledge Jasper's existence let alone be partners with him. But as karma would have it, Ms. Baragar sees our close proximity and hands Jasper the materials, gesturing for us to begin.

Throughout the period, Jasper and I work diligently on our map, labelling all the locations in Florence where important monuments or artwork are located. Jasper is quiet and I don't say anything unless it's absolutely necessary. If Jasper thinks that I'm going to forgive him this easy, that we can go back to how we were last year before everything started to go wrong, then he's irrational.

I notice how my classmates are staring, particularly Maria Soparlo who I remember Alice complaining about. Apparently Maria has liked Jasper forever, but from what I can tell, he hasn't showed interest in anyone all year, let alone her.

I can't wait to see how the vultures take this, how they twist my innocent partnership with Jasper, a partnership that I don't want in the slightest, into something sordid and disgusting.

I should probably make a point of leaving school quickly today.

~SW~

Walking swiftly through the hallways, Ben has to jog to catch up with me. Slightly out of breath, he grasps my arm in an attempt to make me slow down.

I oblige and slow to a gait.

"Now what could you want that is so important you decide to grace me with your presence?" I smile sweetly. Ben is one of the few people that I can freely be sarcastic with without the worry that I will offend him. Usually, I have to monitor what I say unless I want to reduce some poor freshman to tears.

"Hey, can't I have a chat with my best friend without getting all the complaint? I'm hurt, Swan." Ben's bottom lip juts out and his hand clutches his heart. I laugh and lightly punch him in the arm.

Yeah. Ben's a good guy.

Joking put aside, Ben asks, "Bella, are you… I mean, are you hanging out with Jasper Hale again? I heard someone talking…."

"For fucks sake!"

History class only finished ten minutes ago.


	18. Chapter 18

Disclaimer: Characters belong to SM

* * *

March, 2012

~18~

Friday passes by with pointed looks, whispers, and threatening messages pushed into my locker.

It's uncreative and predictable, really.

I manage to avoid Jasper the entire day, only hanging around Ben and Angela or just myself. I still haven't talked to Jacob—or any of the La Push boys— and I really don't know what to say. Was Alice just a fling for Jacob? Did he have feelings for her? Did she have feelings for him?

Yeah, not a conversation I want to be having anytime soon.

The weekend sees me in a boat with Dad, fishing. Although fishing isn't exactly what I would call fun, it's something that Dad enjoys, and I enjoy being with him. He says he does it to let go of all the tension from the previous week, and I try to embrace that.

I still can't understand what all of this means. Why Carlisle was threatening my mom. Why Jasper has all of a sudden decided to make it his mission to be friends with me. Hell, I'm still not sure what Edward's reason was for breaking up with me. And the question taking up the most room in my head is why I never knew about Carlisle and Renee, about their relationship.

I look over to my dad and wish I could explain it all to him, get his take on it. But the photographs are not something that I can share with him. And I don't particularly want to be discussing people like Edward or Jasper with Dad either.

Dad_ hates_ Jasper.

Maybe it's because of the all the tears I cried back in September. Dad didn't know why I was upset and wondered where my friends were. With Jasper having a prominent place in that category in previous years, Dad blamed him for deserting me.

Dad still doesn't know what had caused my anguish back in September. Only I do.

Or perhaps Dad hates Jasper because of the times he caught him drinking and driving this year, and how Jasper's father got him out of the charges. Yeah, that shit really pisses Dad off.

So I sit, resigned to the silence, on the old fishing boat with questions still swimming through my head.

~SW~

Standing at my locker on Monday, I am enjoying the peace and quiet my spare period offers me. With mostly everyone else in classes, the hallways are empty and silent.

I close my locker door, preparing to go sit in the library with my book that has to be read for English class this afternoon. Footsteps approach me from behind, and I turn to see Jasper walking by. He waves, and I reluctantly wave back.

~SW~

With my arms full of boxes, as I have been commissioned to carry all of the cameras the school owns from the locked supply room to my journalism classroom, I can barely make out what is ahead of me as I navigate my way through the school.

All of a sudden, my feet trip over _something_ and I tumble forward. My legs twist, turning me, and I fall backwards to the tiled floor, my head hitting it with a sickening blow. The boxes I had been carrying fall all around me or on top of me. My vision starts to blacken around the edges, and sounds seem to be coming through a long tunnel.

Two girls swim in front of me, and I can barely make out their wide smiles. Maria Soparlo and Jessica Stanley. _Figures._

My last thought is of the potential damage the cameras endured before I black out.


	19. Chapter 19

A/N: Last one until tonight!

Disclaimer: Characters owned by SM

* * *

March, 2012

~19~

_Alice sits beside me on the bench in a tiny enclosed area off the bike path. I live near the park, and this is one of my favourite places to go. Shrubs and flowers help to enclose this private area, and the smell of lilacs and mint leaves fills my nostrils. _

_Alice, appearing stricken, begins to speak. "Bella, I had to leave. I couldn't stand lying to you. And I had to. I had no choice. Edward was so crushed, destroyed, I couldn't take it. And then you… you wouldn't stop asking questions. I'm sorry. It was really my only choice."_

_I stare impassively at her, trying to figure out what the hell she is talking about. Her face begins to swim, as does the bench, the lilac bushes, and the flowers. _

"_Alice, why does my head hurt?"_

~SW~

I slowly stir into consciousness and the first thing I am aware of is the press of fingers into the back of my skull, a gentle hand holding my head from the floor. I am cold, really cold, and the back of my eyes hurt, as if an unseen force is pressing against them, hard.

After a few minutes, or maybe several, I begin to register sound and only then am I aware of the small crowd that has gathered around me. A very _noisy_ crowd. I try to open my eyes only to squeeze them back shut again to avoid the blinding light.

I can somewhat make out a voice, much closer than the others, that I believe is trying to communicate with me. I do not know who it is, or what he is saying. However, I am able to register the keen desperation saturating the end of his words.

I don't really know what's wrong though.

Suddenly, the hand that was holding my head up is gone. The presence that was so close before has left and the quiet voice in my ear is missing.

The noises have gotten noticeably louder; obviously a commotion has disrupted the crowd. I try and open my eyes again and this time, the light isn't so harsh. I manage to sit up, my head swimming. Looking through the excited crowd, I can see Ben and Angela just arriving, concern evident on their faces.

Angela glances behind her, and I follow her gaze. There I see Jasper and Edward stalking away, Edward holding Jasper by the back of his shirt, pushing him forward.

My head is filled with pain, confusion, and an overwhelming urge to follow them.

I stand up on shaky legs and push through the gawking crowd.


	20. Chapter 20

Disclaimer: Characters owned by SM

A/N: You guys might hate me after this one lol

* * *

March, 2012

~20~

Edward leads Jasper into an empty classroom, pushing him roughly inside.

I follow along as fast as my pounding head and aching muscles will allow me, and stop just outside the door. I know that whatever Edward and Jasper have to say, it wouldn't be said in front of me. I also know that I won't have much time to listen. The crowd that was surrounding me only minutes ago will have gotten bored and dispersed, but Angela and Ben will want to know where I have gone.

All I can hear is panting, the sounds of lungs being exerted to their capacity and breath pushing through open lips. I peek around the doorway, keeping my body to the side in case I suddenly have to move back into hiding.

I stifle a gasp.

Jasper is sprawled out on the hard floor and Edward is hovering over him, his eyes glinting orbs of anger. Edward's body is a lion tensed for the hunt, for the kill. Knees slightly bent, shoulders hunched, hands clenched into fists at his sides.

Jasper looks at Edward, both fear and fury apparent on his face.

Although Edward and Jasper fought just like any normal teenage boys would, they have been best friends all throughout high school. The biggest rift that I can remember was when Jasper took an interest in Alice, whom Edward felt protective over even if she was older.

It was December of my freshman year, and I was hanging around at the Cullen's more and more, both because of Alice, my best friend, and secretly because of Edward who, according to Alice, liked me. Jasper was also there, in Edward's room playing video games or outside in the snow, tossing a football.

Alice had phoned, telling me to come over since she needed help deciding what to buy her family for Christmas. I had grown so comfortable at the Cullen's, except when Esme was there, that it was habit to walk right in.

_I enter Alice's through the large foyer and walk through to the kitchen, seeking out a glass of water. To my surprise, Edward has also just entered the kitchen, only from, I assume, the back door. Smiling shyly at one another, we head up the staircase to the bedrooms, with Edward following behind me. _

_At the top of the staircase, I turn left while Edward goes right. I push open Alice's door but there is no one inside. Thinking she must be getting something from Edward's, as his is the only other bedroom on this floor, I follow Edward that way._

_Suddenly my body hits a hard, warm surface. _

_Edward. _

_He is frozen in his doorway, staring in horror at the tangle of limbs that is Alice and Jasper. At least their clothes are all on. And they aren't on Edward's bed, only his couch…_

_Judging by Edward's explosive reaction, it doesn't matter._

Of course after Edward's initial hissy fit, he didn't mind their relationship too much. He liked the fact that he could trust Alice's boyfriend and to be honest, I think Edward enjoyed it because it gave him an opportunity to see more of me.

And to the best of my knowledge, Edward and Jasper haven't had a fight like that since.

But by the looks of things, they're about to.


	21. Chapter 21

Disclaimer: Characters owned by SM

A/N: I think you're gonna like this one. Also, thanks so much for all of the reviews. This is my first time writing anything besides academic essays and I am having a blast, all thanks to you!

* * *

March, 2012

~21~

Holding my breath so that I don't make a sound, I listen, both excitement and fear coursing through my blood. I'm not sure if I'm going to like what I am about to hear, but I know, based on the timing of their confrontation that whatever it is, it will have to do with me.

And I desperately, _desperately_ want some answers.

"So," Edward begins, his voice deceptively calm despite his hard breathing. "You're not just going to torment her anymore? You're going to hurt her now too? _Physically_ hurt her?"

"No Edward! It wasn't me, it wasn't…"

"Bullshit!" Edward roars, striking his fist on the desk nearest to him. "Bullshit! You were there before anyone else, you _did _that. When are you going to listen to me, huh? I've been telling you all year that she did _nothing wrong_, fucking nothing!"

In a flash, Edward has grabbed Jasper by his shirt collar, slightly lifting him up, and has his forearm pressed against Jasper's throat.

"I know man!" Jasper wheezes, panicked. "I know she didn't!"

What I am witnessing seems to be occurring in a bubble, or perhaps underwater, separate from me and distorted in appearance and sound. I can't help but think that I have never, in all of my years of knowing Jasper, seen him this vulnerable, this _weak_. Usually Jasper is the one holding the other guy down.

Edward relaxes slightly, giving Jasper enough breath to speak, albeit hurriedly.

"Listen, I talked to her the other day. She had no idea about Alice, I could tell by her face."

Jasper's voice turns more resolute, more powerful, as Edward's arm falls away. "And please, don't act so fucking innocent in all of this. Even though what I did was wrong, it's not like you stood up for her, you ignored her!"

"I know."

It's broken. His voice is broken.

"I can't stand to be in the same room with her. I can't stand to see her. That's why…"

Suddenly, I can feel a cool hand clasping my wrist.

Angela's voice whispers, "Bella. It's time to go. C'mon."

She pulls me away from the scene. Tears have pooled in my eyes, and I anxiously try to hide them from her, from myself. With only a few words from Edward's mouth, all the hurt that I thought I was over, that I had buried deep down in my soul, has come up to the surface.

_I can't stand to be in the same room with her. I can't stand to see her._

_I can't stand to be in the same room with her. I can't stand to see her._

I don`t realize that I am crying until I hear Angela shushing in my ear, her arms wrapped tightly around me. We are in the girls' bathroom, alone.

I have never felt so much gratitude towards anyone as I do right now towards Angela.


	22. Chapter 22

A/N: I love how passionate you guys are getting! I think many of you would like to see E and J killed off lol. I have the entire story sketched out (roughly) so what happens, happens.

And yes, the plot is loosely based off a certain show …*cough cough* ;) I don't want to outright say it yet because it would give away some answers in the story. But I will undoubtedly have some spiel about it in the last chapter. It is my favourite show after all :)

Usual disclaimer applies.

* * *

March, 2012

~22~

Leaning against the bathroom sink, I manage to steady my breathing and keep my eyes dry. Angela hands me toilet paper from the nearest stall; this is not the kind of school that keeps Kleenex in the bathrooms, and I dry the remaining tears on my face.

I haven't felt this vulnerable in a long time, and I'm really not enjoying the fact that there is someone to witness it. At least it's just Angela, one of the nicest people I've had the chance to know.

I'm a pretty proud person. I don't enjoy asking people for help, and most of the time I don't. If I can't do something on my own, I figure out a way to do it on my own. No exceptions. And this is why I have so much difficulty, why it is almost impossible, when I ask Angela, "Can you…do you know what happened?"

My eyes look up to meet hers, and all I can see in the crystal blue is compassion. She gives me a sad, little smile before nodding her head. "Ben got the story from Eric."

Angela goes on to explain that Jessica Stanley stuck her foot out to trip me at the same time as Maria Soparlo pushed her foot hard into the back of my left knee. Lucking, Jasper Hale was not too far off and saw what happened.

"He was checking you out. Looking at your head, you know, by the time everyone got there. Stanley and Soparlo were long gone by that point. Then Edward came storming through, pushing people out of the way, and grabbed Jasper. I think that was about the time you woke up, right?"

I nod. So Edward must have really thought Jasper had hurt me.

Why did he care?

Why did Jasper care?

Ugh. My head hurts too much for this.

~SW~

The office has agreed to let me go home early, given the goose egg on the back of my head, and I couldn't be more relieved.

My goal is to load up on painkillers and grab a nap on the sofa until Dad arrives. Hopefully I am better by that time. I know that I am going to end up telling Dad what happened, at least that I "tripped", and I want to feel and look as healthy as possible when I do. Dad doesn't need anything else to worry about.

~SW~

A vibrating under my pillow startles me awake.

A text.

Opening up my three-year-old cell phone, one I am sufficiently proud of for still having amidst all of the Blackberrys and IPhones, I read the text. It's from Angela, who probably got my number from Ben.

_Bella, after you left more shit went down. Everyone thinks Edward and Jasper are fighting over you, or something, and Lauren broke up with Edward over it. Thought you should know before battling the wolves tomorrow. – Angela._

I drop my phone to my stomach, lean my head back onto the sofa, and let out a raucous laugh.

First of all, it serves Edward right. Secondly, I'm pretty sure the school couldn't have gotten it more wrong if they tried.

School should be interesting tomorrow to say the least.


	23. Chapter 23

Usual disclaimer applies.

* * *

March, 2012

~23~

Lying in bed that night, I make a survival plan for the next few days.

The students at Forks High are going to take this "development" in one of two ways. Some of them are going to think me untouchable, leave me alone, because I'm somehow under Jasper or Edward's protection. They may even want to be friends with me to get an in to the East-Enders.

These people are idiots.

Students who feel loyal to Lauren, Jessica, or Maria will want to hunt me down. They will want to make me pay for taking away their precious Jasper or Edward, for seducing them to my cause, and these girls do not play nicely.

I may have a bit more trouble with the second group.

So I plan to stay close to Angela and Ben, or Sam for that matter, even if he doesn't like it. I am not going to be pushed out of my school, fear going there every day.

If these bitches want to play, let them.

~SW~

School on Tuesday is much like I predicted. While a great deal of the student body is moving out of my way when I pass, waving to me in the hallways, acting like they are my best friend, there is that small, potent group of girls starring daggers at me wherever I go.

The only people I hadn't accounted for when I thought through what school would be like today is Edward and Jasper themselves.

It's almost like Jasper is waiting for me when I first pull into the parking lot.

"Bella! Bella, how is your head? I didn't get a chance to talk to you yesterday after…"

"It's fine Jasper."

With those three words I leave him standing in the lot, staring after me as I go.

~SW~

I can see Edward now, sitting with all of his friends at _that_ table, acting much like he had the day before, the week before. He is his jovial self. He slaps Jasper on the back, laughing, after an undoubtedly funny joke or story is told.

Too bad I know now that it is all an act. Edward and Jasper are definitely not that happy with each other and I doubt Edward's breakup with Lauren is affecting him so little.

I wonder how much of Edward Cullen is an act to begin with.

Ben and Angela's conversation next to me stirs me out of my reverie.

"Yeah, apparently it's going to be big. You know how huge the Cullen's estate is." Ben says.

"What's going on?" I question.

"Oh. The Cullen's are having a huge party this Saturday, you know, a spring party. I heard they're getting massive tents in case it rains, and are catering for like 300 people or something." Ben explains.

Well that's interesting. It might be the perfect opportunity to snoop around the house, maybe even confront Carlisle if I can get the chance. Maybe the photograph mystery can be solved soon after all.


	24. Chapter 24

Usual disclaimer applies.

* * *

March, 2012

~24~

I get called to the office partway through fifth period.

Walking through the empty hallways, I think back to when Alice and I would coordinate bathroom breaks to be at the same time so that we would have this time, this peace and quiet. We would do laps around the school, or on the grounds, and talk about nothing and everything.

It was how I got to know her.

"_Bella, what would it be like if we were sisters?"_

"_Alice, we practically are. I'm pretty sure my Dad loves you more than me, and I'm at your house most of the time anyway."_

"_But really sisters, you know? Like be able to have Christmas together, or spend our summer vacations off in some exotic land..." She lets out a mournful sigh, but brightens at her next thought. "Well, with the way you and Edward are going, maybe we can be someday!"_

_I sigh too. I won't admit to her that I sometimes have that thought too, well, _more than_ sometimes…_

I shake off the memories as I approach the office door.

Once inside, I am surprised to see Jasper sitting across from Mr. Brady, our principal.

I take the seat next to Jasper, shooting him a questioning look. He quickly looks down at his hands, which are clasped in his lap.

Not good.

Mr. Brady gives me a concerned look. "Bella, I was wondering if you are going to be pressing charges against Jessica Stanley and Maria Soparlo. Jasper here is willing to be a witness, so we can go over with him what happened. But you are also going to need at least a note from a doctor to prove injury. You did go to the doctor yesterday, correct?"

I am momentarily surprised by the topic of this conversation. I had assumed that this instance of bullying would be swept under the rug like the others.

I shake my head to answer Mr. Brady's question. "I didn't know I was supposed to Sir."

Jasper suddenly sits up straight. "_What?_ Bella, you cracked your head. I saw you fall to the effing floor! You must have had a concussion, those _fucking bitches_…"

"Jasper!" My. Brady chides, giving Jasper an admonishing look. He turns towards me. "Well, Bella. I doubt a doctor would be much good now unless you have a fracture or something."

"It doesn't matter. I don't want to press charges."

Jasper tenses, ready to shout again.

Mr. Brady cuts him off. "Well, that's your decision, you are eighteen after all. But I want you to know the two girls will be facing a school suspension. I'm going to have to discuss with the board how long. In the meantime, make sure you see a doctor if your head is still hurting, or if you're experiencing any other symptoms of a concussion."

I agree and thank Mr. Brady, ready to leave the cramped office. I stand up, and Jasper follows my lead.

Once back in the hallway, Jasper and I stand awkwardly.

I want to thank him for being nice, for helping me, but I'm also still hurt and angry over his behaviour this year.

It's conflicting.

I shake my head, and put aside my pride. I seek out Jasper's eyes and quietly say thanks.

He gives me a surprised smile, his eyes lighting up.

"You're welcome Bella" He replies softly.


	25. Chapter 25

Usual disclaimer applies.

* * *

March, 2012

~25~

It's Thursday evening and as I am lying on my soft comforter, still lumpy from my previous night's sleep, I adjust into my thinking pose. On my back, arms and legs spread comfortably, staring at the ceiling. The Midway State plays softly in my ear and my lights are dimmed.

I have no doubt that it was at Jasper's insistence that Mr. Brady decided to suspend Stanley and Soparlo. With those two girls gone and the entire school apparently knowing it was at Jasper's hand, I have been resolutely left alone these last couple of days.

It's been blissful.

Even Jasper hasn't been bothering me much. But whenever I look to where he is in class, he is always looking right back.

I decisively shake my head. Back on task, Swan.

My thoughts turn to Saturday. Since the first day of spring is next Tuesday, the Cullen's party will be held on Saturday afternoon. It is being catered by a company in Port Angeles called Creative Delights Catering.

I've already taken a look into that.

Luckily for me, it's a simple uniform. Black dress pants, white blouse, black vest over top. The only part I'm not thrilled about is the little bowtie that I will have to wear. I also plan on sporting a blond wig because this is a small town, and I need to get in and out without being recognized.

Especially by Emmett McCarty.

As long as I can get by the security cameras that adorn the front gate to the Cullen Estate, I will hopefully be okay. My goal is to get into the house and scope out Carlisle's office. If I search deep enough, maybe I will find some indication for why he was threatening my mother.

Although I feel nervous over this daring action, I feel a sense of accomplishment too. Finally I will be making progress, hopefully putting an end to some of the incessant questions that plague my mind.

Saturday can't come soon enough.

~SW~

That night, I dream.

Swirling images and bright colors point me towards a brown box, I box I recognize. My field of vision expands and focuses, and I realize the box is amongst my belongings at the top of my closet.

It's my mother's box.

I startle awake, but cannot for the life of me remember what I was dreaming about.


	26. Chapter 26

A/N: Just a short one before… ;)

Usual disclaimer applies

* * *

March, 2012

~26~

On Friday, after classes are finished, I ensconce myself in the library to complete my homework before the weekend.

Last year, I might have left it to the last minute. I might have only put in the amount of effort that is expected from an above-average student. But since Mom left, and my family's income has decreased to just the small amount Dad makes, I have to work as hard as I can at school.

The Cullen Scholarship is enticing to say the least.

Fifty thousand dollars given to the graduating student at Forks High with the highest GPA.

That fifty grand could go a long way in helping me earn a degree, in helping me leave this town.

So this year, my GPA is sitting around ninety-eight percent.

I hope that is high enough.

I also hope that my less-than-legal activity tomorrow at the Cullen's doesn't harm my chances.

~SW~

"What are you up to today Sweetie?"

I pause, my fork of hash browns and bacon stilled on route to my mouth. It is Saturday morning, and I have a knot in my stomach just thinking about what I'm about to do.

"Oh, not much Dad. I have to go to Ben's house to work on a project this afternoon, you know."

He nods, satisfied.

"Well, have fun Honey."

"I will Dad."

~SW~

When I arrive at the Cullen's, catching a ride with Ben since the last thing I want is for my truck to be seen here, I am deluged with memories. Memories of the times I was here with Alice, memories of when I was here with Edward.

I feel like I had left a part of myself here, but I don't think I want her back. I've learned a lot about myself these past nine months. I've come to rely upon myself, and therefore trust in my own decisions and instincts. I've grown up a lot. The girl who spent her days here at the Cullen's was happy, fun, and beautiful. But she isn't who I am anymore.

And I like who I am.


	27. Chapter 27

Usual disclaimer applies.

* * *

March, 2012

~27~

It is easier than I had imagined to entrench myself in with the rest of the servers amongst the countless party guests. What I've chosen to wear is almost exactly what they are wearing, and with a tray of cocktails in one hand, I am unstoppable.

Luckily, much of the food and drinks that "we" are supposed to be serving are kept in the house while the party remains outside. It gives me my chance.

I make my way to Carlisle's office that is located on the second floor. It is a room that I had never been in before, but Edward and Alice would go to if they needed anything from their father.

I give myself only five minutes in there. I know with so many people here today, so much activity, that even that short amount of time is taking a risk.

But it's worth it.

I open the door slowly and poke my head in.

It's empty. Good.

I don't immediately tear through his desk, upturn couch cushions, or explore his file cabinet. I know if he has something to hide, it won't be in any of those places.

And if he is anything like his daughter, I know exactly where to look.

"_Bella, I did it."_

"_What did you do Alice?"_

_Alice gives me a small grin and leaps up off her bed. Taking a screwdriver out of her bedside table first, she pulls a chair under the heating vent, and stands on top._

_She proceeds to remove the cover, and takes out an envelope, tossing it to me._

_I open it, take the contents out, and then quickly put them back in._

"_Alice! These are nude photos… of you"_

"_I know! They are Jasper's birthday present. What do you think?"_

_I think I'm traumatized for life._

I look up to where the heating vent is located on the east wall.

Luckily, I brought my interchangeable screwdriver today. A girl's got to be prepared after all.

Removing the cover to the vent, I smile my success when I find an envelope, not unlike Alice's.

As I open it and look at the one photograph inside, it's like I'm numb inside. I should have already learned to expect surprises; I really should have expected this.

I stare, my mind blank, at the smiling photo of my mother.

And if that isn't shocking enough, the photograph is fairly recent. In it, Renee is wearing a shirt I bought for her three years ago, for her birthday.

Hearing laughter from somewhere within the house, I realize my time is up.

And even as I break my stare with the photo and put Carlisle's office back in order, even as I leave his office, and sit down, hard, on the staircase, I can't get the image of my mother out of my head.


	28. Chapter 28

A/N: Those of you who recognize where some of the plot ideas originate from will definitely recognize this scene ;)

Usual disclaimer applies.

* * *

March, 2012

~28~

I hear footsteps approach the bottom of the staircase. Luckily, the stairs curve to the left so I am able to sneak behind the bathroom door without being seen.

Carlisle slowly moves up the stairs, his feet treading lightly, and enters his office.

My earlier convictions that Carlisle had been the one to force Renee to leave town have diminished ever so slightly in light of her photograph being in his office. Why would he want her to leave when they obviously still had a connection, still had some sort of communication or relationship?

The thought makes me sick.

But I am still sure enough in my theory of the origin of the photographs to ask him, to confront him.

I gather all of my bravery, my hurt, and my anger. I can feel the swirling emotions in my entire being, through every nerve ending. I am vibrating with it. I make my way slowly back to the office, and knock with confidence on his door.

I enter without permission, and Carlisle looks up from his desk, surprised.

"I have a question for you." I say, my voice hard as steel. "Does your head of security make it a habit of taking photographs of high school students and drawing bullseyes over their faces, or am I special?"

"Bella—"

"Emmett McCarty took pictures of me, surveillance pictures. He drew a target over my face and sent them to my mother. I want to know why."

By the end of this small speech, a tremor has entered my voice, my anger palpable.

"Bella, you're not making any sense—"

"Why?" I explode, "Why did you want my mother out of town?"

"I didn't—"

"Why didn't she tell my father about the pictures instead of hiding them in a safe deposit box?"

Throughout our conversation, Carlisle and I have been moving closer and closer to one another, and right now, we are almost nose to nose. His eyes are like tiny balls of black steel, his pupils dilated. Sweat coats his hairline and his hands are shaking.

Finally, he detonates. "I DON'T KNOW!"

I shake my head, whispering now. "I don't believe you."

I walk out of the room without looking back. I am exhausted, utterly drained. I feel like a child at Christmas who received unwanted presents. I was so excited to come here, to finally get some answers, and now I am left with only more questions.

I am sick of all the questions.

I enter the bathroom and splash my face with icy cold water in the hopes of bringing some life into it, into me. After collecting myself, I head back to the staircase.

I can hear voices.

Carlisle and Esme.

I slink down the stairs, hugging the wall, and can finally make out their words. I peek around the wall, my eyes taking in the scene. Esme is trying to pull free from Carlisle's tight grasp on her arm. He is leaning over her, but she is standing firm.

"What did you do?"

"Carlisle, I don't know what you're talking about."

"_What did you do_?" He repeats. I can hear the fury in his words, the rage.

He pulls her further along, away from where I am hiding, into the private dining room off the foyer. I can no longer hear them.

But it gives me my chance. To leave this house, to leave this party.

Still, as I wait a couple hundred yards away from the large security gate at the entrance to the Cullen Estate for Ben to pick me up, my conversation with Carlisle and my mother's picture swirl round and round in my head.

Never stopping, never fading.


	29. Chapter 29

Twilight owned by SM. No copyright infringement intended.

* * *

March, 2012

~29~

I tear through my mother's box again, but there is nothing of consequence to be found.

The trust that I had in her, the small amount still left over even after she left, is gone. Dissipated. I don't know what to think anymore.

Did her affair with Carlisle happen after the Cullen's moved back to Forks almost four years ago?

Or was it before? When I was only a little girl, viewing my mother as my own personal angel, a woman who could do no wrong?

I think back to a few years ago, when Mom and Dad started fighting. What did they always argue about? His schedule? Why was she so concerned about when he did and didn't work?

Oh.

_Oh. _

I get it now.

~SW~

I sneak in to the computer lab during lunch to get started on my English assignment.

But I'm not alone.

Two kids sit, staring at the monitor at the opposite end of the room. Their faces are side by side, practically touching the screen. They look like freshmen who are watching porn for the first time.

Probably are.

But they don't see me, and I leave them in peace. That is until I hear _that_ song, the song that swirls through my nightmares, reminding me of_ that_ night, the night I lost my virginity.

I stand up.

Sneaking over to stand behind the two boys, I take a look at what they are watching.

It's a video of poor quality, obviously taken from someone's cell phone. The image is dim, and it is clear it was shot during night.

The song, _Give You More_ by Taxi Doll, is playing in the background wherever this video is being filmed. All of a sudden, moaning overtakes the song, and Leah Clearwater pops into view.

She is in a bikini, sitting in a hot tub surrounded by East-Enders. Her eyes are droopy, and her head is lolling side to side.

And I recognize the scene.

The music.

The hot tub.

The lights.

It's the party that I attended last September. _That _party.

I swallow down the lump in my throat, and ignore the nausea in my stomach.

I continue watching.

But as one of the East-Enders gets up and sits on the edge of the hot tub, and pushes Leah's face towards his crotch, I don't think I can watch anymore.

It's Mike _fucking _Newton.

Forcing Leah to blow him in front of an audience when she is obviously drunk or drugged…

Drugged?

_Oh, shit._

* * *

A/N: Did anyone forget about Leah? Or Sam's favor of Bella? heh heh..


	30. Chapter 30

Usual disclaimer applies.

Enjoy!

* * *

March, 2012

~30~

I have seen enough.

I lean over between the two kid's heads and turn off the screen. Both of them jump a mile out of their seats, but relax slightly when they realize I'm not a teacher.

I slam my fists down on the desk, making the keyboard fly.

"You better tell me where the _fuck_ you got this, and you better tell me right now."

With wild eyes seeking out an escape, sweat glistening on his forehead, one speaks up.

Smart kid.

"I-I dunno… Everyone has it, everyone has seen it. It's going around, okay?"

I grunt out a noise of disgust and exit the room.

~SW~

On my way to the shop class to see Sam, Jasper falls into step with me.

"Hey Bella!"

The boy looks so damn hopeful, smiling widely, eyes seeking contact with mine. I can't help but smile back.

I suck.

"What's up Jasper?"

"Hey well I was thinking of having a couple people over, cool ones, you know? There's a game tonight, Monday Night Baseball. It would be great if you could come and, um, bring any friends you want."

So damn nervous.

I sigh. "Jasper, baseball really isn't my thing. I'm more of a football girl."

Jasper seeks out my eyes, and after a few moments of careful deliberation, recognizes that I won't be changing my mind.

The hurt is still too fresh, too painful.

"Okay Bella. Well, let me know if you change your mind."

He wanders off in the direction of his friends, Edward included. I make eye-contact with Edward, and before I can look away, he gives me a little smile, a secret smile.

I don't smile back.

~SW~

Just like I predicted, Sam is in the shop working on his bike.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" I question.

Sam gestures the go-ahead.

"In private," I qualify, raising my eyebrows in question.

Sam nods, and gestures towards the storage room where students can keep their belongings while in the shop, or their jumpsuits for when they are elsewhere.

Standing in the small room, practically nose to nose with Sam, I suddenly feel vulnerable, like I'm almost to the point of tears.

And I don't like to cry.

Is it because the sickening feeling of being violated and defiled has re-emerged within me while watching that video? Do I feel the hurt all over again that I had thought was buried deep down, a long time ago?

Maybe it's just everything.

With Mom.

With Carlisle.

With Edward.

With Jasper.

It's all too much.

"Hey... Hey, Bella. Shhh. It's okay Honey."

Sam gathers me in his arms, leaning his cheek on the top of my head. One hands glides up and down my back while the other holds me tight around my ribcage. Only then do I realize there are tears running smoothly down my cheeks.

Like I said, I suck.


	31. Chapter 31

Twilight belongs to SM.

A/N: One more for tonight :)

* * *

March, 2012

~31~

"Sam, I saw the video. Of Leah."

I have managed to calm myself down and step away from Sam's arms.

But my voice is still shaky.

My spirit is shaky.

"Fuck." Sam groans, dragging a hand down his face. "Last week only a few people had, and we managed to, uh,_ persuade_ them to destroy the copies. Where did you see it?"

"Two kids were watching it in the computer lab. They said it's going around fast."

"I don't know what to do." Sam whispers.

He looks defeated. His head slumped onto his chest, arms hanging limply by his sides.

I feel the same way.

"Sam, I think Leah was drugged that night. And…"

Here we go. Deep breaths Swan.

"I was too."

Sam freezes, his mouth popping open. In a flash his arms have moved up, grasping my shoulders tightly.

"_What_?"

I nod, my eyes tearing up again.

Shit.

"Is that all?"

"What do you mean?"

"_Is that all?_ Is there a video of you, too? Or Jesus, is it _worse_?" The last word causes his voice to crack.

I can picture my face right now as Sam must be seeing it.

Breaking right in front of him.

Crumbling into the horror and disgust I feel.

For a tough motorcycle guy, a guy who has seen hardship, who has seen despair out on the reserve, where there isn't enough wealth to keep everyone fed or clothed, Sam is breaking.

In front of me.

He puts a hand on either side of my face, looking deeply into my eyes.

I feel like he can see my soul. Like he shares my pain with me.

"Bella, no one deserves that. You did nothing wrong. We will get the bastard who did this to you, to Leah. I can promise you."

I nod shakily,

I hate this. I hate feeling so weak, so defenseless. This isn't the girl who I have come to be over the past year.

This isn't me.

"Sam, I know what to do. I know where to start."


	32. Chapter 32

Usual Disclaimer applies.

A/N: Sorry for the lack of updates today guys! I got called into work this morning when I wasn't supposed to go until this afternoon. Oh well. This one is a long one anyways ;)

* * *

March, 2012

~32~

Dinner with Dad is tough.

When he asks me how my day was and then proceeds to eat in wait for my answer, an answer he is obviously expecting to be generic or normal, I freeze.

I want to unleash all of the stress, all the information and ugliness that I have been carrying for too damn long. I want to share it with Dad. I want him to make it all go away, to make it all better. Hell, I'd been at the point of tears all day, why not break down again now?

But some things aren't my secrets to tell.

Mom… with Carlisle. How do I go about telling Dad that one? The last thing I want to do is hurt him. And that information hurts. It hurts a lot.

And then there is Leah.

Sam and I had talked for over half an hour, discussing details, informing each other on what we knew. I had even missed History class.

Leah came first.

Sam told me that Leah had refused to come to school all of last week and today. And she definitely didn't want to get anyone involved, including teachers and administration at school or the police.

I felt like I knew where she is coming from.

When something happens to you like that, something so horrible that you never want to think about it again, you want to bury it deep inside and pretend like it never happened, then the last choice you will make will be telling someone about it. Furthermore, this town upholds a definite hierarchy, resulting in the East-Enders getting away with everything. So putting yourself out there, confessing something that you can barely even bring yourself to think about, will only get you more hurt.

No one will do anything if Leah or I tell.

_Slamming the door shut and dropping his gun belt to floor, Dad slumps down in his recliner._

_I know from his behaviour that he has had a bad day._

_I grab a cold one from the fridge, and pouring it into a glass with ice, I bring it to him._

"_Thanks Sweetie." He says, his voice reflecting the exhaustion he feels._

_I sit down on the wide arm of his chair. With one arm wrapped around his shoulder, I lean in and ask him what's wrong._

_His usual reply is something like, "Oh, nothing you should worry about" or, "I didn't like some of the decisions made today, that's all."_

_But this time, _this time_, he looks me in the eye and gives me a real answer. Maybe it's because I'm older and can understand more or maybe it's because with Mom gone now, we are all each other has left. And we need to learn to trust in and be honest with one another._

"_Bella, a couple rich kids got away with assault today in court. They were both twenty-one and assaulted a Native man out at the La Push bar. Because the man they assaulted is a well-known alcoholic, not to mention Native American, no one took any sympathy even though the pair made sure that he will remain deformed for life._

"_No matter who you know and don't know, no matter which people you think are good people, and which don't look so good from the outside, you need to always be impartial, always make the decision based on what you believe is right and wrong."_

_I give him a hug, crushing my face into his chest. "Okay Dad."_

After my long minute of contemplation, Dad finally looks up from his meal, surprised that I haven't said anything yet.

"My day? It was fine Dad, just fine."

~SW~

Sitting at my desk overlooking my window, I work on math homework when suddenly my phone starts to buzz.

Flipping it open without checking the caller ID, I am surprised to hear Jasper's voice greeting me.

"_Hey, Bella. Umm, you missed history today and we got a major project assigned. Everyone had partnered up…_"

Of course.

"_So I told Ms. Baragar that I could be your partner. You know, since you weren't there. I…I hope that's okay Bella?_" Jasper's voice is soft, questioning, and unsure.

I nod, regardless of Jasper not being able see it. I think I'm agreeing to a lot more than simply his question.

"Yeah, it's fine Jasper. Thanks."

"_You're welcome Bella_."

"Hey Jasper?"

"_Yeah?_"

"Weren't you going to have people over tonight? For baseball?

"_Oh…right. Umm, it didn't work out tonight apparently_."

"Oh. Well, too bad I guess. So want to meet tomorrow? I could come by your place…"

Jasper's voice brightens considerably when he replies with an enthusiastic "_Yes!"_

I laugh slightly and disconnect.

Only then do I realize I forgot to ask what the damn project is about in the first place.


	33. Chapter 33

Usual disclaimer applies.

* * *

March, 2012

~33~

I arrive at school on Tuesday a half an hour before anyone else. They sky is clear for the first time in ages, and the temperature has finally warmed up enough that I don't need a light jacket anymore this early in the morning.

I walk out onto the front lawn, with Forks High proudly standing in the near distance. It's an old brick building designed in the thirties when bigger was better. So even though several classrooms now remain empty, it's a landmark in Forks. The American flag is raised proudly at the top of the flagpole that is impaled in the lawn, and Mike Newton is duct taped to it at the bottom, naked. Of course, the tape covers the uh, _critical_ _parts_.

I guess Sam was feeling friendly this morning.

Walking over, sipping at my coffee, I ask, "How's it hanging Mike? Let me guess, uncomfortable?"

He splutters. "I guess you and Leah got the bikers to put me up here."

I smile. "I had nothing to do with it, Mike. But I could be convinced to cut you down." I flip open the blade to my pocket knife.

Mike sneers, showing every bit of ugliness that he possesses. "What the fuck do you want?"

"I just want a simple answer to a simple question. Who gave you the GHB the night of Jessica Stanley's party?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. I can't help it if you and Leah show your true colours when you get a little tipsy." He laughs.

"Mike, in about five minutes, people are going to start showing up for school. And unless you want your_ little_ _business_," I circle his crotch area in the air with my knife, "to be the first thing people see, you're going to tell me who gave you the roofies." I smile at the look of panic that crosses his face.

"Fuck. It was Jasper Hale. He gave it to me, okay?"

I can feel the shock deadening my system. It's like my brain has shut down, closed off to what his statement might mean, could possible mean…

I suddenly feel nauseated.

"Oh, and Bella, don't flatter yourself into thinking that I would waste a roofie on you. If you were in fact drugged, which I find hard to believe, it wasn't by me."

I put forth my triumphant smile, masking the sickness I feel.

"Well Mike, thanks for talking. Great to catch up with you." With that, I walk away, leaving Mike yelling behind me.


	34. Chapter 34

A/N: I'm lovin' all the reviews, alerts added, etc. from you guys. You make my day!

Usual disclaimer applies.

* * *

March, 2012

~34~

Washing my hands in the bathroom sink, I look around when I hear the door open.

It's Bree Tanner.

Out of all the East-Enders, she has got to be the friendliest, albeit fairly clueless. When the "Let's-Hate-Bella" wagon started this year, Bree refused to jump on board, electing to remain safely on the sidelines. That's not to say she hasn't helped me out at all.

Back in September, when my clothing had been flushed in the toilet sometime during P.E., Bree had let me wear the extra shirt she always kept in her locker.

Or last semester, when I had Chemistry with Bree, she agreed to be my lab partner.

It reminds me that there are still good people in this town, specifically on the East side.

"Hi Bella!" She smiles, looking at me through the mirror. I doubt even Bree would greet me with such enthusiasm if there was another soul present.

"Hey," I answer and then take a deep breath before asking, "You were at Jessica Stanley's party last September, right?"

I try for nonchalance.

"Yeah… for a little while." Her eyes suddenly don't meet mine in the mirror.

"Did you see me there?"

"Why?" She is picking at her fingernails, hiding her eyes from mine.

"I just want to know. My memory is a little fuzzy from that night."

"Umm, maybe that's a good thing." Bree looks at me then, her nose crinkled and her lips pulling into a smile, like it's some joke.

I wish I could be that oblivious.

"So you did see me there."

"For like a second," she clarifies, "I was with Riley and we were just leaving."

I raise my eyebrows at her in a silent question.

"You were on a lawn chair and there was a crowd around you. I think they were doing body shots off of you, and feeding you shots."

Shit.

"Can you tell me who was doing it? Who was around me?"

"Bella, I wasn't anywhere close, but I could see Tyler Crowley and Lee Stephens for sure. But really, that's all I can tell you. We left then."

I nod my head, silently thanking her for her help.

Bree looks from me to herself in the mirror and, fixing a piece of blond hair before checking her teeth, she turns to leave. Just before reaching the door, she turns to me again.

"Bella, a word of advice. You got to let it go. So you had an alcohol-related embarrassing moment, it happens to everyone."

She gives me a smile before exiting the room, proud of her sage advice.

I let it go. Bree can be as blind as she wants to be. At least she gets through high school with a smile on her face. It's more than I can say for myself.

Besides, because of her help, I now know who to talk to next.


	35. Chapter 35

Usual disclaimer applies

* * *

March, 2012

~35~

I exit the bathroom, looking around to all of the students that crowd the main hallway. They are mostly East-Enders who feel a misplaced sense of ownership in this school. Like it is their's, like it is made for them. Everyone else, the students who don't fit into their narrow margin of what is acceptable, typical go outside during breaks, even if it is raining.

Here in Forks, we are all resigned to being wet most of the time.

I catch a glimpse of Edward and Jasper walking through the center of the hallway, others moving out of their way as the pair strides purposefully towards their destination. Both of them have grown so much over the last year, matured. Edward now sports a bit of scruff on his jaw and chin, and Jasper has definitely bulked up.

But when I see them, heading unknowingly towards me, I turn and enter the bathroom again, quickly closing the door behind me. The last thing I want to do is to see Jasper, to talk to him. I know what will happen when I do, and I don't want that to happen in public, in front of prying eyes.

I haven't worked out what Mike had said at all. Okay, Jasper had the GHB. The roofies. The drugs that somehow made their way into my system. Fuck, what the hell was Jasper doing with drugs? Why would he want them, when according to him, he was so broken-hearted over Alice? Did he just want to fuck her out of his system, and thought a girl who couldn't say no would be best?

What if it was him? What if he…

And now, just as the walls that I have surrounding myself with where Jasper is concerned have begun to crumble, have begun to erode into nothingness, I can feel them being built again, only taller and stronger now.

It hurts to think that the friendship I have begun to forge with Jasper over the past week is gone. It makes me wonder what the point of forgiveness is, what the point of letting someone in is, when they are simply going to hurt you again and again.

I wait a good five minutes before exiting the bathroom again, and luckily Edward and Jasper are no longer in sight.

~SW~

I am in my bedroom, sprawled out on the bed listening to music in my bathrobe. Metric blares in my ears, singing about how if she trembles, they will eat her alive. If she stumbles, they will eat her alive.

I know where she is coming from.

My phone vibrates, _again_, and I silence it once more. Jasper has now phoned seven times, undoubtedly wondering where I am, since I was supposed to meet him at his house, and where I was in history class, which I skipped again.

There is a knock at my door.

"Honey, sorry but I just got called out. You'll be okay?"

I sit up and look at him. He's fixing his uniform, buttoning up the shirt as swiftly as he can.

"Sure Dad, go stop some crime." I smile and Dad returns it.

I go back to listening, to contemplating, to relaxing. But as my thoughts turn to the events of today, of the last two weeks, a sob suddenly tears up my throat. I can't get enough air in my lungs to calm my wracking cries, and I turn to towards my pillow to muffle the sounds. Even though I am home alone with no one to hear me, I don't want to hear the sounds of my weakness.

~SW~

I don't know for how long I cry, but I know I must look a mess. Just as I am getting up out of my bed of self-pity to clean myself up, I hear the doorbell ring. I wipe my eyes as best I can with the back of my hands, tighten the robe around me, and try to calm my beating heart.

Crying takes a lot out of a girl.

Making my way downstairs and to the front door, I unlock the deadbolt and open the door slightly, peeking my head around the small crack I have made.

Jasper Hale stands there, eyes blazing down to mine, hands stuffed in his pockets.

Wonderful.


	36. Chapter 36

Usual disclaimer applies.

A/N: Here you go, you gals asked for it! ;)

March, 2012

~36~

I open the door a bit more, displaying everything for him.

My tear-stained face.

My body, not covered as much as I'd like it to be for this conversation.

My vulnerability.

I simply gaze at him, my brown eyes locked with his blue.

Realizing that I'm not going to speak, Jasper starts.

"What did I do Bella? Can you just tell me so that I can apologize? Explain?" His tone is hinting at exasperation, but the anxiety of his words overshadows everything.

"Explain? Okay. Explain to me why you were the one with GHB the night of Jessica Stanley's party when someone drugged and raped me." I throw the words at him, bitterness and hostility coating each one.

Jasper's eyes open wider, and then his shoulders slump. He shrinks down in front of me.

"Explanation? Apology?" Sarcasm drips from my words. It's my only weapon.

Finally, the shock leaves Jasper enough for him to speak. "You were raped?" It's a breathy whisper. I can hardly make out the words.

I simply stare at him in response.

He leans forward, whether to say something else, give me a hug, I don't know. But I cringe back.

"Okay! Don't, seriously!"

He shuffles back and then breathes, "What happened to you?"

"You tell me."

We continue to stare at one another.

Suddenly, it's like a lightning bolt strikes him. He jumps back, almost falling off my front steps. "Wait! Wait you think…"

I cut him off. "I was told you were the one with the drugs."

"Yeah, I got some Liquid X with Mike. We were just going to have some fun."

"Fun like sex-with-unconscious-people fun?"

"Fun like go-to-a-rave fun." He's defeated, utterly defeated.

I roll me eyes. "Okay, you've convinced me. Bygones."

Jasper looks to me again, and takes a step closer. His eyes are intense, blazing. "What can I do? What can I do to make it better?"

I shake my head. "I'm going to find out who did this to me and I'm going to make them pay. Even if it was you." I inch back, and my eyes harden further. "Sorry, I've got to go throw up now."

With that, I slam the door in Jasper's face.


	37. Chapter 37

Usual disclaimer applies

* * *

March, 2012

~37~

I am back to regular self by the next day. Although my eyes feel slightly swollen, and my throat is hoarse, I look normal enough.

I slip down the staircase to where Dad is partaking in cereal and reading the newspaper at the kitchen table. Sunlight streams through the window, alighting Dad's face in its warm glow. Kindness and love shine through his features, and I am hit with a powerful wave of love towards this man, towards my Dad. I feel a twinge of regret seeing the less-than-filling breakfast he is eating. I'm a good cook, and if I had got up only fifteen minutes sooner, maybe I could have made him something that would last him, like an omelette, or bacon and eggs.

I must strive to make the effort more often.

Wrapping my arms around his strong shoulders, I give his prickly cheek a kiss. He glances up, surprised by my display of affection. Like our usual form of communication, Dad speaks with sarcasm when he says, "Are you trying to butter me up for something? What is it this time?" Exasperation colors his words, causing me to laugh.

"Oh, Dad! All I want is a pony. Please, please, please!"

He shakes his head, not wanting to admit that he is amused. I plunk down on my chair, pulling the box of cereal my way.

"So Bella, anything interesting going on? It feels like it's been a while since we really caught up…I'm sorry I've been working so many hours." He looks sorry too, his eyes displaying perfectly the disappointment he feels for missing out on time with me, for potentially letting me down.

Guilt overwhelms me. The reason we haven't been talking all that much lately is not his fault at all; it's mine. Everything that is currently filling my mind, making it feel like it will explode with the information, with the memories, is matter that I don't feel I can share with him. And I sometimes wish I could, really wish it, but then I remember the potential consequences.

"Dad, I know you can't help how much you work. And I've been busy the last little while, what with the mid-semester workload and trying to get the Cullen Scholarship and all. Please don't worry about it. You are the best Dad I could ever ask for."

I mean that too.

I think back to last year at this time, when Mom was still here. Although I can freely admit that Dad is the best father out there, I don't know if I could say the same for Mom. A morning like this would have undoubtedly gone the exact same way. Renee would have probably been out of the house already, attending a class for her latest obsession. Even if she was still home at this hour, she never would have made any kind of breakfast that required the stove.

But she was my mother. I loved her.

Too bad she had decided to put her love elsewhere, in a man with his own wife and kids, one of which was dating her own daughter. I still can't wrap my head around how fucked up that is.

I don't want to.

~SW~

From what Bree said, Tyler Crowley and Lee Stephens had participated in taking advantage of me while I was inebriated. Even if they were just doing shots off of me, it still deserves an ass-kicking. But first, I want to find out exactly what they saw, what they know.

Especially if there is a video out there of me like there is of Leah.

Using the pad of paper with our school crest that I had swiped off of a teacher's desk, I write a quick note and bring it to the office.

The secretary looks it over, nods in thanks to me, and I exit the office.

But I don't go far.

A few minutes later, I can see Tyler Crowley making his way to the office, probably wondering what it is for this time.

Using the element of surprise, I grab his arm and manage to pull him into the girls' washroom, located right next to the office. Locking the door, I turn to see Tyler Crowley, both surprised and undeniably angry, staring down at me.


	38. Chapter 38

Usual disclaimer applies.

A/N: This might be the last one until Monday. I'm spending the weekend at the Craven Country Music Jamboree, and thus will be offline all weekend. Maybe, just maybe I'll get another one done tonight :)

* * *

March, 2012

~38~

"What do you want Bella?"

His tone is one of exasperation. Probably more because I managed to trick him than the fact that he is missing class. Tyler's parents work for Carlisle, making them rich. Therefore, as long as he passes high school, he will get into a good college, no question.

It's safe to say Tyler doesn't put much effort into school.

I go for politeness first. "I was wondering what you could tell me about Jessica's party last September." And because I can't stay nice for long I continue, "I heard you were doing body shots off of me when I was passed out, and I want to know _exactly_ what happened."

He has the gall to look just a bit ashamed. "You weren't passed out, you were just drunk. And I didn't personally do a shot from you, it's not my thing."

"Well did you give me alcohol? I know about that, too."

"Okay, maybe I gave you some. But you were fucking asking for it!"

I shake my head. I can't see this conversation going far.

Think, Bella. Think.

So, Mike said he got the GHB from Jasper, but Jasper said they got it together. Regardless, Mike had GHB on him that night. He had given some to Leah. Maybe someone could tell me if Mike had given it to another girl as well.

Maybe Tyler Crowley could.

"Do you happen to remember which girls Mike Newton had his eye on that night, besides Leah?"

"Yeah, that's easy. Back in the fall, Mike was all about Jessica Stanley. And being at her house? He would have wanted to fuck the bitch right on her bed."

I cringe just a bit. Not an image I want in my head.

But it poses an interesting scenario. What if GHB had made its way into Jessica's drink? Was she drugged too?

One thing I know for sure is that Mike Newton is guilty. And once I find out who had hurt me, who the mystery person is that led me to waking up alone in a bed practically naked and punish him, Mike will be the next person who I tell my dad about.

I don't care what Leah says. I don't care how biased this town is. Dad and I will make it so he is convicted.

I am pulled out of my thoughts by Tyler's angry huff.

"Can I go now?"

"Sure Tyler. One more thing…"

I step closer so we are only inches apart and quickly lift my leg up, kneeing him in the crotch.

"That's for giving me drinks when I was drugged, you ass."

And I leave the bathroom without looking back, knowing Tyler is moaning in the fetal position on the floor.


	39. Chapter 39

A/N: I'm back... ;)

Usual disclaimer applies. Enjoy!

* * *

March, 2012

~39~

Sitting at lunch with Angela and Ben, I enjoy the first real appetite I have had since watching the video of Leah. I suppose releasing some of my aggression on Tyler has helped. The cafeteria is full and the plethora of different foods students are eating lend to an interesting odor permeating the room.

I'm used to it by now.

While Angela and Ben sit in their own little world, locked in a gaze while they nibble at their food, my eyes are trained on the East-Ender table.

On Jessica Stanley in particular.

She is sitting there amongst her friends, all identical in hair, makeup, and clothing. Even from here I can see her leaning over the table, displaying cleavage to the guys sitting on the opposite side of the table.

Finally, Jessica shuffles back and gets up from the table. She throws back one last comment to the conversation at the table before walking away.

I know why she is leaving early.

Jessica has a bulimia problem. But I'm pretty sure most of the girls from the East End do too.

I quickly pack away the lunch I haven't eaten yet, and stand up from my table. Ben and Angela both look up with questioning glances.

"Be right back."

They nod, used to my surreptitious antics. I quickly follow Jessica out, remaining at a comfortable distance. I know exactly where she is heading.

I slip into the bathroom after her, and she turns to me in a protective stance.

I wonder if she knows what I want.

She looks to me, arms crossed across her chest, left hip gutted out. Her caked-on makeup is more apparent from this close up, and her teased hair is already started to fall out of its careful up-do.

And I try. I really try to see past it all, back to the girl that I used to be friends with before everything happened. But there are so many layers covering her now, layers of low self-esteem and self-deprecation. I doubt she can even find herself anymore.

But I feel little sympathy.

Yes, high school is hard. I can testify to that more than anyone. But people like Jessica, they make themselves targets and they don't see the big picture. In two short months, we will all be out of here forever, and all of this, all of the rumours and the pain, will become distant memories.

"So Jessica," I begin, "What do you remember from your party last September?"

* * *

A/N: Let me know your theories! I love to hear them :)


	40. Chapter 40

Usual disclaimer applies.

* * *

March, 2012

~40~

Jessica peers at me, apparently surprised by the question. For a moment her grimace dissipates, and she looks somewhat pensive. But a second later, the scowl is back.

"What I remember Bella Swan, is you making out with anyone with a mouth. Fuck, you even kissed James and Laurent Hunter." Jessica seems to grow taller as she hurls the comments at me, gaining strength off of my supposed weakness.

"I kissed James and Laurent Hunter?" I spit out the words which are raised in volume, and I have a sudden urge to wash my mouth out. James and Laurent are brothers in senior and junior year, and are a boil on the backside of the East End. Of course, East-Enders put up with them because the Hunter's own a forestry company here and are filthy rich. But it does not mean that James and Laurent are not both slimy, skanky pigs.

Yes, guys can be skanky too.

Especially these two.

Looking back, I wonder at myself for ever thinking it was a good idea to go to this party. But I was just so headstrong, so angry and stubborn. I thought that it was what I needed. I thought it could prove to these people that I didn't care what they thought. That I could do whatever I wanted, even if that was going to one of their parties.

But of course, a girl can't be right all the time.

Still gloating at her ability to shock me, Jessica replies to my rhetorical question. "Please. You practically made out the garage door. And don't even start with the 'I was so wasted' line."

"I wasn't drunk Jess. I was drugged."

I speak without backing down, making eye-contact. But it leads me to wonder if Jessica was drugged too, how does she remember all of my actions so well?

I change tactics lightning quick, grabbing onto her bony shoulders and leaning in close. Jessica is stunned, both by my confession and the physical contact I just initiated.

"Jessica! Did you leave your drink anywhere? Hand it to anyone?"

Her guarded expression morphs into confusion. Yeah Jess, it's a random question. But can you please just think?

And luckily, she does.

A smile forms on her powdered face, her eyes glinting with mirth. "Yeah, I remember. Mike poured me a rum and coke with regular. Like I would drink that shit. And so I handed it to you…after I spat in it." She giggles, backing away and heading out of the room.

I let her go.

And now, even though I know how the GHB got into my system, I am out of breadcrumbs for finding the potential rapist.

And I feel like time is running out.

I turn to leave the room as well, just as the door to the stall furthest away opens up.

"Bella, I heard your conversation with Jessica. And, well, shit. I wasn't completely honest before. There is more to tell you."

* * *

A/N: Any ideas who this could be? ;)


	41. Chapter 41

Usual disclaimer applies.

* * *

March, 2012

~41~

I stare at Bree, waiting for her to elaborate.

"Well, I mean, I was honest but I kind of forgot some things. I thought back to that night, and wondered how I could leave you alone in that kind of situation. Seriously, I would never do that."

I had wondered that too. It didn't quite make sense that Bree would have not have at least said something to the crowd surrounding my unconscious form. She would have done_ something_.

"I asked Riley yesterday, hoping he would remember. And he told me that someone had picked you up, taken you out of there. And then I remembered. I remembered it all."

So someone had helped me? Before any of them could escalate it further? But then why, _why_ wasn't this person there for me when I was raped?

Perhaps the person who picked me up isn't my savior at all, but my demise.

The thought drops like lead into my stomach and now, now that I feel like I am only seconds away from finding out who did this to me, I feel like I am at a crossroads. Part of me wants to run screaming from this room, from Forks, and never look back. Bury my head in the sand and pretend none of this had ever happened, and Alice is back, my mother is home, and Edward is…

Well, I made the decision long ago that I would not live in denial, that I would find the son of a bitch and make him pay. But even with this resolve, it feels like I am using everything, all my strength, my stamina, when I ask, "Who was it?"

Bree's eyes hold so much sympathy and compassion. It's a shock to see. With her head slightly tilted to the side, her shoulders slumped, she barely whispers her reply.

"It was Edward, Bella."

And I will myself not to panic. We had only been broken up for a little over two months so he must have still cared about me enough to help me out, right? That must be it. Because any other possibility…

I gulp.

Stop. Thinking. Now. Bella.

"And he was really, really angry at them too. Like explosive. He probably would have done a lot of damage if he hadn't been holding you and if he wasn't so messed up himself."

"He was drunk?"

Bree shakes her head.

"No Bella. I don't think so. His eyes, they were so unfocused. I think, I think he was like you Bella."


	42. Chapter 42

Usual disclaimer applies.

* * *

March, 2012

~42~

Seeing Jasper in history class reminds me of why I was avoiding that class this week. I guess knowing that it was Edward who helped me and that I will soon have to confront him about it distracted me.

So when I enter the classroom and Jasper looks up at me with big, blue eyes, I sigh.

I know Jasper didn't drug me. I know that he was, is, a truly unhappy teenager that made a poor decision in getting drugs to make himself feel good. I know he regrets what happened. I know he is sorry.

So I sit down in the desk beside him. I have one more thing to ask him before I let this go.

And I have to laugh because Jasper looks scared shitless. This is the guy that terrifies almost everyone at this school. This is the jackass of Forks High, the kid who swears at teachers, gets suspended, bullies whoever he feels like.

This is Jasper Hale.

I turn to look at him, my head resting on my hand. "Hey, Jasper."

"Bella…" His greeting is almost a question, wondering if I am really talking to him again. Maybe he thinks I have something else to blame him for. And if he is thinking that, he is correct.

"Can we talk, you know, after class?" Despite my wavering thoughts on Jasper, my voice is still not very warm.

"Sure. And, um, I've been working on the project since you haven't been here." He doesn't look like he blames me in the least. "Here is what I have done so far…"

~SW~

Sitting in Jasper's bright yellow Nissan Xterra, I try to come up with the right words to ask my question. I chose this spot to talk because it would offer us privacy, allowing Jasper to hopefully speak freely about something I doubt he has told anyone about.

Rain is cascading on the windows, blocking my view of the outside and blanketing us in its masking sound. The fuzzy forms of my classmates walking to their cars pass by, but it is as though Jasper and I are in a bubble, apart from everything else.

It's much too intimate for my liking. But it is really my only option.

And I think my suspicions are true. I can't come up with any other possible solutions to the problem. And I wonder if Jasper regrets it, if he even realizes the potential consequences. Hell, I don't even know the consequences yet myself.

Taking a deep breath and turning in my seat to face him, I ask my question.

* * *

A/N: Any theories for what she is thinking? Let me know!


	43. Chapter 43

Usual disclaimer applies.

* * *

March, 2012

~43~

"Did you give Edward GHB at Jessica's party?"

Jasper's eyes widen, and his mouth opens slightly. His eyes look between mine, trying to understand why I am asking this, why I _know _this. I stare back, attempting to maintain my resolve. After a few endless moments, Jasper squeezes his eyes closed and, nodding slightly, he lets his head fall to rest on the steering wheel.

"I just, I wanted him to feel good. I wanted to make him feel _something_." Jasper's words are muffled from the steering wheel and I can barely hear him out.

And I don't understand. At all.

Jasper turns his head to face me, now resting his cheek against the wheel. He looks utterly drained, with dark circles under his eyes, wayward hair, and pale skin. And I wonder what could be causing him so much grief, so much anguish.

"Bella," he continues. "You don't understand. After you two broke up, it's like Edward was dead inside. He didn't want to do anything. Not eat. Not sleep. And it was like that all summer. Then school started and it was worse when he had to see you and, I don't know, I thought maybe if he could have some fun, he might remember what it was like, you know? I didn't think it would hurt…"

None of this makes any sense. Jasper is just describing what my summer was like, not Edward's. It was Edward's decision to break up, not mine. He didn't want me anymore, he wanted nothing to do with me. What Jasper is saying simply cannot be true.

And suddenly, an overwhelming anger towards Edward wells up inside me, bubbling to the surface, and I lash out at Jasper. "Edward broke up with me! Not the other fucking way around. Why the hell would he have been acting like that?"

And although I am yelling in the small confines of the car, the sound reverberating around us, Jasper simply stares at me for a moment before continuing his train of thought.

"But then, shit, after that _fucking_ party, God. I have never seen anyone so hysterical, so depressed. I was at a loss. I didn't know whether to tell anyone, to get him some help. Fuck. It was bad, so bad. And suddenly, like the switch of a light, Edward began acting normal again, well, how he acts now."

And Jasper's eyes are haunted, filled with despair.

"Bella, I swear it's worse. Like he's a zombie, like no one is there inside the guy desperately trying to be normal. It…it scares me. Shit, the last time he 'woke up' you could say was that day Maria and Jessica hurt you. Although I was afraid he was going to beat the shit out of me, I was so _thrilled_. Finally, there was some emotion in him, some_ feeling_.

"And now that I know you were hurt that night, because of the fucking drugs I had, _I had_, I feel even worse. Even worse than this entire year knowing that whatever happened at Jessica's to Edward, my fault because I drugged him, had made him so much worse."

Jasper turns his head back into the wheel.

"No wonder Alice left me, left the fucking country. I'm toxic. I'm cancer."


	44. Chapter 44

Usual disclaimer applies.

* * *

March, 2012

~44~

Jasper remains silent beside me after his confession, for which I'm glad. My thoughts are so jumbled, scattered, and all-consuming. Although I am sure that Jasper believes everything he just admitted to with all of his heart, it is so disbelieving, so unconceivable to me. I can't get past the fact that Edward was sad after the break-up, let alone the rest.

I mean, if he was so "dead inside" then what about Lauren fucking Mallory? What about all of the stories I have had to endure this past year about Edward Cullen being the life of the party each weekend?

I simply cannot reconcile the Edward I have come to know this past year with the Edward that Jasper just described to me.

And I want to ask Jasper for more clarity, more evidence to support his claims but I can't because suddenly there is a loud pounding on the passenger window.

"Bella!"

I open the door and Sam Uley is staring at me from the other side, eyes a deep black with anger, hands clenched into fists beside him.

He grabs my hand and pulls me from the car, as if he is scared for me to be there a second longer. Once he has successfully pulled me across the parking lot, he lets go, huffing and stomping.

"What _the fuck_ were you thinking Bella? Why were you in a car with Jasper Hale? Are you stupid? Did you hit your fucking head?"

I am so angry by this point, I can't even see straight. But I manage to reach up, grab his shoulders, and shove him as hard as I can.

He doesn't move much.

"Sam, that is _my_ business, not yours! _You_ have no right to touch me, to yell at me like that. Where the fuck do you get off, huh?"

And it takes about a minute, but the tension in Sam's body slowly unravels. He lets out a whoosh of air and mutters a "sorry" under his breath.

I know it's the most I will get from him.

"I just wanted to let you know that Leah has decided to transfer back to La Push, for the last few months of school anyway. And I wanted to ask you if you made any progress yet, you know, with the fucker who drugged her, and you." He sounds like a sullen little boy who just had a temper tantrum and can't quite speak normally yet.

I sigh. "Sam, I will let you know when I have all the details. But _the fucker_ will not be dealt with your type of justice; I will deliver him to my Dad."

Sam nods his head, acknowledging that my line of thinking is probably the correct one.

Suddenly, he locks eyes with something behind me, and the anger and tension is back on his face. "There is someone here to see you, Bella. I better leave." Sam's tone is acidic again, and I look around.

Jasper is standing about ten yards away, watching us carefully.

I nod my head to Sam. A confrontation between these two would not be ideal. Leaving Sam, I walk to stand next to Jasper.

"Jasper?" I question.

"I had to make sure you were okay Bella. I'm sorry if that made you uncomfortable, or whatever."

"No…no. it's okay, really. But I think I'm going to go now."

Jasper nods. "Bye Bella."

"Bye Jasper."


	45. Chapter 45

Usual disclaimer applies.

* * *

March, 2012

~45~

Despite the bewildering conversation with Jasper, and the pointless argument with Sam, I arrive home pretty early, with plenty of enough time to make a decent meal for Dad and I.

But when I arrive, I am alarmed to find the front door to my apartment unlocked.

Peeking my head in, my pocketknife opened and held tightly in my hand at my hip, I am startled to see my dad sitting on the living room couch, beer in hand, eyes trained on the television.

"Dad? Don't you work until…"

He cuts me off. "Not today, Bella." The smile that usually greets me from Dad is nonexistent, and I know he has had a bad day.

~SW~

Supper with Dad is even worse. He doesn't speak unless he is asking me to pass him something from the table and he never once makes eye-contact with me.

I am starting to get a knot in the pit of my stomach. Why does his problem seem more to do with me than a work-related issue? Why is he avoiding_ me_? I can't help but feel let down, to feel abandoned. Dad is the one person in this whole, crazy world that I can really count on, that I _trust_. What would I do without that trust?

And maybe I'm overreacting; maybe my emotional state has been so severely compromised these past few weeks that it is now affecting my relationship with my dad. I don't know. I just wish these feelings of rejection would go away.

~SW~

I am staring up at my ceiling, randomly making shapes and patterns in its texture, when I remember the dream I had had a while ago, about Mom's box. Wasn't it calling to me or something? Is there perhaps something more to be found in its depths that I have overlooked in the past?

I get up from my bed, and switch the light on. I blink away my sleepiness and my eyes slowly adjust to the intruding light. But as I move towards my closet and open the door, I know something is amiss.

Mom's box is gone.

.

.

.

Charlie.


	46. Chapter 46

Usual disclaimer applies.

* * *

March, 2012

~46~

Because the apartment that I live in is so small, so crowded with all of the essentials and nonessentials that it barely leaves enough room for Dad and I to move around, finding places to store Mom's things where we wouldn't see them proved to be quite difficult. And although we could have just got rid of everything, I think both of us harboured hope that maybe she would be back.

Regardless, this is why my closet had to be put into use.

So while Dad knows that the box is there, I can't understand why he would want to look through it. Dad won't even mention Mom let alone purposefully seek out her possessions.

And suddenly, I know that this is connected with Dad and his bad mood. This is perhaps the reason why Dad was acting so strangely.

Oh no.

What if he somehow found out about the affair?

Dread flows through my veins.

_Oh, Dad_.

At least he can't possibly know about the surveillance photos. For one, the safe deposit box key is no longer in Mom's box, and even if he had found another copy, the photos are no longer kept at the bank.

I have them.

So I go to sleep with a knot in my stomach, worry and concern for my dad overwhelming the anxiety I chronically feel from my own problems.

~SW~

Breakfast is strange only because Dad is trying so desperately hard to behave normally. He even attempted to make French toast, and despite the slices being a tad soggy, I savour each bite.

I wonder what is running through his mind right now. I wonder how much he knows, if he maybe knows more than me. After all, the only real evidence I have is a picture of Renee in Carlisle's heating vent. Dad was _married_ to the woman, is still married to her. He must have suspected. I just wonder why he is suddenly so interested in her now, what brought it on.

"Bella?"

Dad startles me from my thoughts, and I look up to see his haggard face, buried beneath the artificial smile.

"There is a demonstration today in the lab at work, displaying DNA samples. Would you be willing to offer a drop of blood so we can show how blood relatives compare? I will only need to prick your finger…"

And despite the questions that are fighting to bubble to the surface, I nod my head in assent without another thought.

It's the least I could do for him.

* * *

A/N: I just wanted to say how much I appreciate the reviews. Hearing what you think has helped my writing and my ability to tell this story. And of course, I love to hear all of your creative theories! Thanks guys! :)


	47. Chapter 47

Usual disclaimer applies.

* * *

March, 2012

~47~

The rest of the week slips by like the early morning fog. What I had said to my dad about the mid-semester workload being intense was no lie and striving to maintain the highest average in my graduating class? Yeah, it doesn't leave too much time for anything besides school work.

Not that I have a social life anyway.

Besides at lunch or during class I hardly talk to Angela or Ben. My thoughts are just so consumed with _everything_, all of the memories, the clues, the facts. They swirl around and around, like a disjointed movie that refuses to stop.

And I avoid everyone else at all costs, including Sam, Jasper, and Edward. I have no idea yet what I want to say to any of them, and I don't want to make a mistake by saying the wrong thing. And although I have to see and talk with Jasper during history class, I manage to keep the conversation safely on the history project topic.

Edward? Well…

Trying to reconcile what Jasper described Edward to be like this past year with the Edward I have seen? Yup, it's difficult. And I really don't want to think about why Edward was upset after Jessica's party. I _can't _think about that yet. So for now, I know it won't be difficult to avoid him; I have managed to do just that all year.

So when I leave the school doors on Friday, I am thoroughly ready for my weekend, hopefully free of drama.

~SW~

Saturday morning sees Dad trying to convince me to come with him to La Push.

Sorry Dad, but your best friend's son, Jacob, was the guy Alice was cheating on Jasper with, and I haven't seen him since finding out that little nugget of information, and I don't particularly want to.

Um, no.

I don't think Dad would enjoy hearing that.

Instead I give him a different truth.

"Sorry Dad, but I think it would be more beneficial for me to remain here. You know, with my homework and all."

He nods, and I breathe a sigh.

My relationship with him has been a bit _strained_ these last few days. It's almost as if Dad is tip-toeing around me, being careful not to bother me, and to tell the truth, acting like I am emotionally unstable. And while I appreciate him trying to make supper for a change, spaghetti that is cooked into one large clump is not something I particularly like to eat.

So having the house to myself on Saturday and presumably Sunday will be a welcome change, albeit somewhat lonely.

But I guess that's something I am used to.

* * *

A/N: Yes, a bit of a transition chapter. Keep up with the theories for what is going on in this crazy little town! Love to hear them. And I know some of you are worrying about me making a certain thing true for Bella and Edward *_cough cough_* but let's just say not everything is as it seems, mkay? ;)


	48. Chapter 48

Usual disclaimer applies.

* * *

March, 2012

~48~

As much as I don't want to, I know I need to talk to Jessica again.

And I really, really don't want to.

First of all, she still hasn't had words with me yet about her week-long suspension for tripping me and causing me to black out. Thank God we never got that far during our bathroom conversation at lunch last Wednesday. I know for a fact that when she gets around to seeking out her revenge, it won't be pretty. But hopefully she won't have time to think of anything before we graduate. After all, Jessica isn't the sharpest tool in the shed.

And I plan on being far, far away after graduation.

Secondly, although I do want to know more about what she had witnessed at the party, considering she could possibly know who I ended up in the guest bedroom with, I also do not want to hear any more about the people I possibly kissed.

James and Laurent Hunter?

Gag me now.

But considering the party transpired at her house, and from what I remember from the gossip that took place afterwards, next to no one was sober, I know Jessica is my best shot.

Now, being conforming is not my style. Doing something the same way twice when it could be done differently? Yeah, I don't think so.

So instead of following Jessica into the bathroom for her lunch-time "removal" routine, I patiently bide my time until after school.

After all, I have had _way_ too many conversations in the Forks High bathrooms of late.

For safety reasons five years ago, when I was just a kid of thirteen, Dad taught me how to jimmy car windows. You never know when you will be locked out of your vehicle, and have an attacker following you…

Well, Dad tends to be overprotective.

Regardless, I realize how useful the lesson has proven to be as I sit and wait for Jessica in the passenger seat of her car. Being that Jessica has already been in five car accidents, her parents have finally refused to buy her _another_ new car and she is left with an old beater like me.

Making it easy for me to find my way in.

And I can't help but experience immense enjoyment at the flinch and squeal she emits when she realizes that she is not alone in the vehicle.

Still breathing heavily from the adrenalin rush, Jessica's face morphs into a scowl as she turns to me, anger glinting in her eyes.

"Bella _fucking_ Swan." She growls.


	49. Chapter 49

Usual disclaimer applies.

* * *

March, 2012

~49~

Despite her hostility, I really just want to get down to business.

"Jessica."

Deep breaths, deep breaths.

"Did you see me do anything else? I know I am asking a lot from you, given our history, but can you think back to when else you saw me, what I was doing? Was I making out with anymore else?"

Jessica smirks, her lips pursing into an amused smile, her eyes twinkling. "Bella, you were doing a whole fucking lot more than making out, emphasis on the _fucking_."

_Shit._ Shit, shit, shit.

She knows.

My heartbeat goes into double time, my breathing picking up. And I'm _so_ angry, so _fucking_ angry. Jessica has always known who it is, and she never told me! Not even after I confessed to her that I was drugged, that I remembered nothing.

Suddenly, I can no longer stand to be in the confines of her car. I feel like I will explode if I spend even one more second in the thick, pungent smell of her car, gaging on her perfume mixed with the air fresheners hanging from her rear-view mirror. I will detonate if I have to look at her _ugly_, sneering face for even a moment longer.

Because I have always known Jessica was a bitch. But _this_ is crossing the line into the evil category. This stunt she has pulled is something I don't think I could ever, ever forgive.

Jessica Stanley should rot in hell.

I scramble to open the passenger door, fumbling with the old, metal handle. My hands are shaky and the periphery of my vision has turned red. Angry tears are even welling up, making it so difficult to get out. I feel like I am going into a panic.

Once I have stumbled out, I take greedy gulps of the fresh air, letting the cool temperature soothe my burning face. I lean against the side of her car, feeling the wet metal soak into the back of my shirt. My head is swimming and I'm just _not ready_. I'm not ready to listen, not ready to face the consequences, to face what this could mean.

Running away and never returning, never stepping foot in Forks again, has never been such an appealing option before.

Jessica exits her side of the vehicle, the hideous sneer still in place on her face.

Acting like my meltdown never happened, Jessica continues from where she left off.

"Why Bella" The fake concern on her face is remarkably laughable. "You don't remember?"

* * *

A/N: So I am home sick with a bad cold all day, even missing out on a date :(. But I guess it is lucky for you guys, since I will undoubtedly have nothing to do but write, right? Anyways, leave me some love, your reviews are like presents to me. :)


	50. Chapter 50

Usual disclaimer applies.

* * *

March, 2012

~50~

And I want to bitch slap her. Maybe kick her in the shins.

Badly.

"You see Bella, walking by the guest bedroom and witnessing Edward Cullen taking off your panties? Yeah, not something I want to think about. I mean, could you at least have shut the door…"

But I'm already walking away.

I don't hear the rest.

~SW~

Climbing into my truck, I am hit with a powerful wave of déjà vu.

I have felt like this before. Once.

Numb.

Cold.

Robotic.

It's been six months since the last time, but in those six months, I forgot what it was like.

I had thought I would never feel so out of control again, so out-of-body.

I guess the strength that I have developed since then has been for naught because it sure doesn't help me now.

I had _really _hoped I would never feel like this again.

_Carrying my shoes in one hand, I try not to pay attention to the right shoulder strap of my dress that is broken, hanging limply over my chest. I have yet to look in a mirror, but I can picture my face. Mascara running and clumping underneath my eyes, my hair a knotty, curly mess. I walk slowly, mindful of the aches and tenderness my body is exhibiting, of the pain in my head that throbs with every heartbeat. _

_I move through Jessica's house, thankful that I don't see anyone. Beer cans and plastic cups litter every surface, and the sickeningly sweet odor of alcohol permeates the air. Thankfully, it's blissfully quiet, the only sounds being the pleasant chirps of birds from the trees outside._

_All thought of what has occurred the night before is gone from my mind. My only focus now is to find my way to my truck, and get home. It's strange, really. Because even those basic thoughts are leaving me, I feel like I am leaving me, like my body is doing everything on its own. This is a good thing because I do not want to be in my head or my body right now._

_And as I find my way to the truck and step inside, turning the engine over and carefully pulling out onto the quiet street, I really am numb. _

_No longer here._

Instead of finding myself in front of my apartment building, where I think I intended on going after leaving Jessica standing in the parking lot, I am surprised to see that I have driven to a different destination.

I stare up at the colossal house, painted a pristine white to contrast the deep green of the trees that surround it.

It's really quite beautiful.

My eyes shift to the rear-view mirror and the large gate behind me.

Did I open it myself?

Did I use the intercom system to have the gate open for me?

Was it already open?

I don't remember.

But as I once again stare at the glass front door, and the numbness starts to ebb, my warring emotions begin to make themselves known.

Pain.

Betrayal.

Anger.

Oh, yes. Overwhelming anger.

Harnessing these emotions and gathering all of my strength, I exit my truck.

* * *

A/N: Hang on tight everyone, it's going to be a bumpy ride...


	51. Chapter 51

Usual disclaimer applies.

* * *

March, 2012

~51~

I make my way to Edward Cullen's front door, conscious of the fact that his Evo sits in the driveway, and I know both of his parents are at work. It makes me feel a little bit better, realizing that our conversation will be in complete privacy.

When Edward opens the door a few short minutes after I knock, I wonder what my body language is telling him. I am standing as far away from the door as the small concrete landing will allow me, my arms are crossed tightly over my chest, and my angry eyes are moist with tears.

Shit.

I hate feeling vulnerable.

"Bella? What—"

I don't let him finish. I need to get this out.

"So Jessica said you and I were in bed together the night of her party last year. Care to elaborate?" I try to spit out the words, to show him every bit of anger that I am feeling. I just need to know…

Yeah, Edward was drugged that night too. But if he remembers, if he remembers and never discussed it with me…

He knew I was a virgin. He knew I was in love with him and that he broke my heart.

Two months before.

Isn't the fact that you sleep together at some party a reason to say something, to perhaps apologize?

And I can't even contemplate if the act was more sinister than sex, if I was passed out during it…

I cringe.

So instead of actually sounding angry, my voice is quiet and a tremor runs through my words. At least I manage to keep eye contact with him.

"_What_?" Edward lets out a disbelieving grunt, his eyebrows shooting up. He takes a step away from the door and closer to me. "What are you talking…"

I stop his movement and his words by putting my hand out, fingers extended, palm facing his chest. "I want to know what happened." Finally my voice contains some strength, some potency.

"Do you know how wasted I was at that party? I barely even remember it; the whole night is a blur." And his hand is out, moving with his words just like I remember it doing whenever he was speaking passionately.

He's making excuses.

A sob escapes my throat without my permission, but I know I need to push through. "Jessica said she walked by the guest bedroom and you," I shake my head, still in disbelief. "You were taking off my underwear!"

His eyes widen, but then look heavenward, probably seeking guidance to address the crazy girl on his front steps.

I'm suddenly hysterical. "You were the one who raped me!"

This causes him to look back at me.

And he's angry.

"I raped you?"

I reply by letting out another sob, tears leaking down my cheeks. I turn my face away, no longer able to look at him. Taking a few steps back, I stumble over the cement landing. Edward catches my arm, preventing my fall.

I wrench it out of his grasp.

"What are you doing? Why are you acting like this? Why are you acting like you weren't there?" His words have taken on a remarkably high pitch, each one sounding more and more alarmed.

"_What_?" The word is a gasp, torn from my chest.

"You were there too you know! I thought we had some unspoken rule, like we're never going to talk about it, but now _I raped you_!" His hands pull at his hair, his face scrunching up tight. He brings one hand down and slams it, in a fist, against his thigh.

I flinch.

After several moments, and countless deep breaths later, I can tell Edward is somewhat calmer. I remain quietly crying and sniffling, standing on his sidewalk a few feet away.

When he speaks again, his words are much softer, gentler.

"I need to tell you what happened?"

I nod.


	52. Chapter 52

A/N: You're going to have to trust me here with this, don't disregard what I had said about everything not being as it seems, okay?

Usual disclaimer applies.

* * *

March, 2012

~52~

I wonder what Edward makes of me. It is clear he has no idea that he was drugged, probably because he was also drinking that night which in itself would explain the forgotten memories. I wonder if he thinks that I was the same way, just inebriated from the alcohol, not able to remember because of my drunken stupor. Regardless, I'm glad he finally realizes that I'm not letting him make bullshit excuses; I'm not letting him ignore what happened any longer.

Edward begins to talk, speaking each word with careful deliberation.

"I remember taking you away from those assholes. I remember laying you on that bed, wanting you to get some rest where you would be safe. And then you woke up. I remember stroking your cheek, being amazed at how soft it was, softer than before…

"And you sat up, and said that you missed me. That you loved me. And yes, we made love. Both active participants."

And I can't stop crying.

Edward crosses his arms over his chest and his words are quiet, subdued. "You really don't remember?"

I bite my bottom lip, trying to stop the sob.

But then a thought occurs, sending the sob ripping up my throat.

"Then why did you leave me there?" The volume and pitch of my voice rises with every word. "If it was so tender and loving, why did I wake up by myself, searching for my underwear?" I am practically shouting now.

Edward cuts me off, his words even louder than mine. "I had to get out of there!"

"You had to?"

"Yes. I woke up, I-I saw you there. I realized what I did!"

"What did you realize was so bad?"

"I slept with you!"

"But it was consensual right?" My lungs are working at their maximum capacity, leaving me panting through my mouth.

"Yes!"

"Then what about that is _so wrong_?"

And Edward's face crumples.

He's crying now too.

His hands move through the air, trying to grasp some sense, an anchor. His chin is quivering, and his eyes have turned red.

Finally, the words pour from his lips, coming faster and faster, louder and louder.

"Because you're my sister! And I knew it! Even after my mother told me, and I tried to just cut you out of my life, _I loved you_. I tried not to! I tried not to, but _It. Won't. Go. Away_!"

The pain etched across Edward's face, the agony that permeates every word, cuts me to the core. I gasp repeatedly, not able to get enough oxygen into my burning lungs.

Edward falls into a squat, forearms resting on his legs, head in his hands, which are claws upon his skin.

But it doesn't stop me from hearing his sobs, his cries.

I turn and begin to walk away.

Not good enough.

I begin to run.

I make it to my truck and wrench the door open.

The keys are still in the ignition, letting me escape a split second faster.

Still not good enough.

I don't make it far on the highway before I need to pull over and throw up.

* * *

A/N: So just a word about GHB. Wikipedia states, "Its effects have been described anecdotally as comparable with alcohol and ecstasy use, such as euphoria, disinhibition, enhanced sensuality and empathogenesis. At higher doses, GHB may induce nausea, dizziness, drowsiness, agitation, visual disturbances, depressed breathing, amnesia, unconsciousness, and death." So if you are wondering why Edward remembers more than Bella, it's because he undoubtedly had a much smaller dose. However, it still would have affected his inhibitions and decision-making skills, obviously to quite an extreme.


	53. Chapter 53

Usual disclaimer applies.

* * *

March, 2012

~53~

Pulled over on the side of the highway, I lift my head up from the steering wheel which I have been crying over for the last twenty minutes.

So Edward Cullen is your brother.

Deal with it Bella.

It really shouldn't come as such a shock, an electric jolt that sets my teeth on edge, my stomach instantly queasy. I knew about Renee and Carlisle. I knew how much Esme hated me, even from the time I first met Alice and Edward three and a half years ago. But I guess looking at your husband's illegitimate child would make anyone spiteful.

And being that Carlisle is one of the wealthiest men in the state of Washington? Yeah, I can see why Esme felt she needed to protect her assets, why she went to the extreme of threatening my mother. This information, this _fact_, if it holds true, could be worth millions.

And the irony is choking. I have been working so hard, busting my ass, to win the Cullen Scholarship, which is in fact money that I should already be entitled to.

But that thought just makes me want to throw up again.

I'm thinking like a money-crazed bitch.

Yeah, that's not who I am.

No matter who my biological father is, Charlie Swan will always, always be my dad, the man who raised me, who loves me.

_Oh, Dad._

I swipe my fingers across my cheeks, trying to stop the endless tears, and take a shaky breath. Fumbling with the keys, my hands unsteady and limp, I manage to start the truck.

I can at least take comfort in knowing that I won't have to drive far to reach home.

~SW~

I step through my front door, dropping my school bag to the floor. And I already feel better. The air smells like home, a mix of food smells and vanilla from the candle that I like to burn in the living room. I take comfort in the photographs that line the mantle of the little electric fireplace that stands against one wall, pictures of Dad and I from over the years.

The ones of Mom were taken down.

The apartment is quiet, and I know Dad isn't home yet. But judging from the time on my watch, he should be any minute.

I move through the open space of the living room, heading towards my bedroom. And I gasp when I catch a glimpse of my face in the hallway mirror.

My hair, which was light and flowing this morning, is matted down, tucked behind my ears. My eyes are glassy and red. Although I don't wear much makeup at all, just a small amount of mascara, it seems like every stitch of it has ran down to coat underneath my eyes.

And then there's my skin.

Despite having brown hair and brown eyes, I have very translucent skin. Meaning that whenever I exercise, cry, or am out in the heat, my skin blotches. This used to be a big problem to me as a child because I cried more often, like any child does, and was embarrassed by the instant red my face would turn.

However, looking at my face now, I don't think it's ever been so bad.

I am not just red and blotchy. Underneath the red, I am sickly pale, with sallow cheeks and white lips.

In a word, I'm a mess.

And this is not something that will go away by the time Dad gets here. I won't look any better even if I take a quick shower now. And I just know my voice will be completely unrecognizable too.

But I think… I think it might be better this way.

Inhale.

Exhale.

I think I need to talk to Dad.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews! You gals are awesome :)


	54. Chapter 54

A/N: Hey guys! Sorry for the late update, I worked for eleven hours today and then had to go run, it's just that beautiful out :).

Usual disclaimer applies.

* * *

March, 2012

~54~

Dad opens my door slowly, softly. Poking his head around carefully, he remains on the threshold, not knowing if he is welcome inside but dying to comfort me.

He could hear my crying.

And I think it is one of the things that terrify him the most.

Of course, the last time he heard me cry was back in September, when I was inconsolable, yet secretive. When I refused to let him know what had destroyed me, shattered me…

_I sit and stare out of my bedroom window. From the second floor, I have an excellent view of my neighbourhood, of the small bungalow houses standing in neat rows, of the deserted streets. Several of my books are tossed to the side, not capturing my attention._

_I continue to stare._

"_Bella?" _

_It's Dad. And I hate how unsure he sounds, how frightened. _

_But I just can't bring myself to do anything about it._

"_Would you like some supper, Sweetie? I ordered pizza…" And I have to smile, or at least turn the corners of my mouth up some, at the anticipative tone his voice carries. Even his posture hints at it, at hopefulness. _

_I clear my throat. I haven't spoken in a while._

"_Maybe later, Dad. Thanks."_

_And that positive energy he was just exuding, that optimism, it melts away._

Dad had tiptoed around me for weeks, making sure to clean up his messes, cook meals, do laundry. He spoke each word with deliberation and consideration, afraid he would say the wrong thing and set me off. Eventually, I couldn't stand making him feel that way, making him so sad. And I smartened up.

I toughened up.

Now, as I look up at him standing awkwardly at my doorway, knowing he can see the tears on my face, hear the stuffiness in my breathing, I begin to understand the meaning of strength.

Because six months ago when I refused to tell him what was wrong, when I kept everything to myself, weighing myself down the grief and anguish, I thought I was being strong. I thought I was being brave.

All I was being was a coward.

And I can suddenly see how much I've grown since last September, how much strength I have gained.

I can't help but feel … _proud_.

So I give Dad a tight smile, letting him know that he can come in, that I'm not shutting him out. He walks slowly towards me, as if he is afraid I will change my mind if he makes a sudden movement. Sitting tentatively on the edge of my bed, Dad fumbles with his hands, not sure where to put them.

It's…_cute_.

And I tear up again.

_Shit._

Taking a deep, cathartic breath, I say that words that are impossible to say, that no daughter should ever have to ask her beloved father, that I fear will not make it past my lips.

"D-Dad,"

_Christ_.

"Am I your daughter?"


	55. Chapter 55

Usual disclaimer applies.

* * *

March, 2012

~55~

I hear an audible gasp escape Dad's lips, but I can't see his reaction as he already has me pressed against his chest, arms wrapped tight around me, rubbing my back. He begins to hush me like he would a small child and I relish in the contact, the closeness.

He smells of laundry detergent and Irish Spring soap. He smells of home, of love. I press my face harder into the blue police uniform that covers his chest. He squeezes me even tighter.

We are united, on the same page. He doesn't have to ask me how I know, why I am asking. _He knows me_. He knows that I'm smart, extremely curious,ingenuitive.

He also knows that at one point I was exceptionally close to the Cullen's.

And I know that Dad, with his silly excuse for a blood sample, had ulterior motives. I know he had figured it out as well.

Dad slowly draws away, pushing me only far enough so that we can look at each other, make out the emotions playing on the other's face.

His is raw. His eyes are glassy and red, and it looks like he is carrying the weight of the world on his back. He looks _that_ tired.

And I am suddenly terrified to find out the reason.

But Dad, being Dad, wouldn't want something to suffer for any longer than it has to. Being that we live in a heavily forested region, where wildlife is aplenty, Dad has had to deal more than once with hunters who shoot animals and leave their bodies there, still alive and suffering.

When he comes across that type of case, it's a more-than-one-beer type of day.

It disgusts him.

So, looking carefully into my eyes, Dad speaks the one word that I have been dying to hear without pause, without letting me agonize any longer.

"Yes." He whispers.

* * *

A/N: Sorry this one is so short, but I had to get something out before work today, and really, you all got what you wanted lol.


	56. Chapter 56

Usual disclaimer applies.

* * *

March, 2012

~56~

The relief is instantaneous.

All-consuming.

Wonderful.

Like finding out the priceless jewelry you thought you had lost had been tucked away in your bureau all along.

But it doesn't stop me from crying _again._

My only thought is of Dad. Of how I am so lucky to have him as my caregiver, my best friend, my _father_. It almost makes up for having such a shit mother.

And that's one of the unpleasant aspects about growing up. You no longer see your parents as all-knowing and perfect, as wonderful people who are there to help you, to care for you.

You begin to see their flaws.

From the time I turned thirteen, back when Dad first taught me to shoot a gun or jimmy a car window, I began to question Mom. I began to wonder.

Why did I always have to make lunch when it was just the two of us?

Why did the laundry only get done if Dad or I did it ourselves?

Why did she complain so much about money being tight, about buying me a new pair of jeans when I tore the knee out of my old pair, when she threw money away on pottery classes or manicures?

It was disappointing to slowly lose the hero-complex I had for her growing up, for the fog around her to dissipate enough for me to see all of her, shortcomings too. But I guess it helped soften the blow when she left last year. Or when I found out about her and Carlisle only a few short weeks ago.

And luckily, having such an awesome dad makes up for it.

_Oh, Daddy._

He continues to hold me as I silently cry, and I'm pretty sure he is crying too judging by the dampness I can feel on the top of my head.

And I don't mind.

But I begin to wonder. What pushed Dad to look through Mom's things? What drove him to find out about the affair? About my questionable paternity? And most intriguing, what evidence did he manage to uncover that solidified his theories?

Because I for one could not find much.

The room is so quiet that although I speak in barely a whisper, my words muffled from Dad's shirt, I know he will still hear me.

"How did you find out?"

It takes a long time for him to answer. And I know he isn't wondering what I am referring to. I know he understands perfectly what I am asking. Dad is just being his usual, considerate self, trying to determine how best to speak about something that he knows is hurting me.

He takes a deep breath, letting it out through his mouth.

It's a sigh of defeat.

And I wonder if he came to the conclusion that no matter how nicely he says it, no matter what fancy language he uses, his admission is still going to hurt.

With one more deep breathe, he finally admits, "I started divorce proceedings, Bella."

* * *

.

A/N: I've always had a problem with the canon Renee and her inability to take care of Bella. Yeah, it's downplayed in the books, almost portrayed as laughable that Bella had to take care of her mother, but I really don't think that's fair for any young girl to deal with. Anyone agree?


	57. Chapter 57

Usual disclaimer applies.

* * *

March, 2012

~57~

I know I shouldn't be surprised. I know this is a good thing. But his response is still shocking, it still makes me tense. I think about Dad, only 43 years old, with an adult daughter who will be moving out of home within the next five months. He still has so much life to live, so many things to experience. It might sound kind of horrible, but I'm _glad_ he is divorcing Mom.

I squeeze him tighter and then let go.

"I think we have a lot to talk about." I sigh. He nods his consent, and we get off my bed. This is a conversation that I need to have face-to-face and feasibly not in my bedroom.

I decide to have a quick shower and it makes me feel immensely better, like I am washing off the grief and horror of the last couple of hours, those scary hours when I didn't know who my father was. When I get out, putting on yoga pants and one of Dad's old tees, I step into the kitchen where Dad is waiting for me with two steaming mugs of coffee.

He has put chocolate milk in mine, just how I like it.

And I know the coffee is an indicator, a sign.

He will be treating me like an adult during this conversation. He will not paraphrase or explain the abridged version. He knows I need to hear everything. But he also expects me to be an adult, to not childishly hide important facts from him, to trust in him that he will handle everything I say with a mature reaction.

But it's difficult.

Yes, there are definitely things I need to tell him. About Esme's deceit, how I found out about the affair, and how Edward, and I suspect Alice, have known about it since last summer. I know I will even have to tell him about the surveillance pictures taken by Emmett McCarty and used by Esme to threaten Renee.

But can I really explain to Dad what took place at Jessica's party?

I don't think so.

Because I know that there would be several people in the Forks' holding cells tonight, and some with possible injuries caused by Dad. Edward, Mike, and Jasper would be at the top of the list, but he would have no qualms in arresting Jessica as well.

And I'm not sure yet what I want to be done about them. I have no idea yet where my thoughts are on that front. It's going to take time for me to work out, time for me to untangle right from wrong.

I need time to emotionally accept all that happened.

Because that definitely hasn't happened yet.

So I sit down at the small formica table across from Dad, trying to come up with words to explain.

Thankfully, he starts.

"In order to get divorced from a missing spouse, I had to provide evidence to the court that I have thoroughly searched for her. And I have Bella, but she is nowhere. It was during that time, well, last week, when I discovered some things. And I suspect you know what I am talking about?"

I nod, but I don't want him to think that I have been deceiving him, that I've been keeping it from him. I just never felt it was the right time to tell him.

"Remember when I found out about Renee and Carlisle being a couple in high school a couple of weeks ago? I asked you about that." He nods in acknowledgment. "That's when I began to wonder. And well, I found out some things you are really not going to like…"

I cringe a little bit when he narrows his eyes and I fear this conversation is about to go downhill, fast.


	58. Chapter 58

Usual disclaimer applies.

* * *

March, 2012

~58~

"I know why Mom left."

Dad looks surprised by this, like he was expecting something much, much different.

Don't worry Dad, it's all connected.

And so I explain. About finding the safe deposit key. About forging a death certificate. Dad's face begins to turn red as I describe that one. When I get to the part about the photos, Dad leaps up off his chair, causing it to fall loudly to the floor.

"Where are they?" he growls.

"It's really—"

"BELLA!"

"It's okay! Let me explain, please!"

He is breathing wildly, his face bright red. It would be comical if the situation wasn't so grave. He picks up his chair and sits down, hard, all the while still looking at me.

"Esme Cullen got them taken, to push Mom out of town. I know this because Emmett McCarty bought meat from the butcher shop across the street from where they were taken at the same time and date. I had thought it was on Carlisle's orders, and I confronted him."

"Where?"

"What?"

"Where, Bella? Where did you confront him? Don't tell me you went to his house when you thought he took those photos. Tell me you're not that stupid!"

Ouch.

I feel like I've been slapped. Hard.

Yeah, I know he is angry, but he took that too far. And I don't have to say anything. With a slight raise of my eyebrows, Dad begins to look somewhat ashamed. He ducks his head down, breaking eye-contact, and then gives me a slight nod to continue.

Taking a deep breath, trying to be the bigger person, I do.

"I confronted Carlisle during the Cullen's spring party, you know, when there were hundreds of people there." I don't mention that we had words in the privacy of Carlisle's office.

"And he had no idea, but he questioned Esme about it later, so I know it was her. And while I was there, I also found a picture of Mom in his office… a _recent_ picture."

Dad's face pales. No matter how much evidence he has, how much proof, each additional piece is still bound to hurt him, to twist the knife in further.

My anger towards him for the name-calling begins to ebb.

"And then, Dad…" I sniff, my swollen eyes watering again, "Edward told me today that… that his mother told him we were brother and sister!"

"Oh, Honey…" He presses his hand to his mouth and his eyes crinkle at the corners with concern. He looks at me with compassion, with understanding.

And it feels amazing to have someone share the grief with me, the pain that has made me sick to my stomach since speaking with Edward this afternoon. It feels so good to let him know, to let him comfort me.

And he does.

With his arm wrapped around my shoulder, my head leaning against his chest, we watch my favourite movie, _The Blues Brothers_. A bowl of popcorn rests on his lap, and glasses of soda sit on the coffee table.

And everything else that needs to be said, like how he found out about Mom's affair, and everything that needs to be done, like telling Edward that we're not related, can wait until tomorrow.

Because tonight, all I want to do is spend some time with my dad.

* * *

A/N: Anyone catch the quote from Breaking Dawn? ;)


	59. Chapter 59

Usual disclaimer applies.

* * *

March, 2012

~59~

When I arrive at school the next day, I have to admit that I'm nervous.

First of all, although I know my worry is futile, I don't want Jessica to share with anyone what she told me yesterday. Yes, people in this school already think I'm a whore and it wouldn't change much, but I can just imagine Edward's reaction. He is still under the impression that we are siblings, and for him to have to hear about last September's _little mistake_, well, it just wouldn't be fair.

But I know Jessica, and even though it happened so long ago, the fact that it's been brought up again is going to be a green light for her to share it with everyone.

Secondly, I _really_ don't want to have to see Edward today, to see the perpetual pain in his eyes and not do anything to stop it. Because while I do plan on telling him as soon as possible that we are in fact not related, I would rather that conversation didn't take place at school. I am bound to cry and if he does too, like he did yesterday…yeah, not happening here in the view of our peers.

But unfortunately, the sky is cloudless so when I step out of my truck at a quarter after eight, Edward and his friends are the first thing I see, loitering on the school's front steps.

_Crap._

I head over there anyway, not wanting to suspend the inevitable.

And the small group of teenage boys, including Edward, turn silent. I can feel their stares burning into me as I walk by, but I don't look away from the door. I wonder what they are thinking, what they could possibly know.

I wonder what Edward is thinking.

And that thought plagues me for the rest of the day, making it difficult to think of anything else. Because really, what could he be thinking? What horrible thoughts have gone through his head this past year with the perception that he used to date his sister_, _that he_ slept_ with her? I can't even imagine. And then what he said yesterday… about how he felt. I'm not sure if I heard him right, but I think he said that he loved me, and that he couldn't stop.

I can't help but wonder if that still applies.

And I obsess over why he never told me, shared with me with his grief from the beginning, from the time of our breakup. Shared with me the fact that our parents were having an affair, that, according to his mother, we were siblings. Surely that must have been exhausting, keeping it to himself…

And a memory inexplicably comes to mind.

Our first date.

_I feel so awkward eating the sandwich he has made me with only one hand. But the thought of letting go of his is just painful. We are sitting on a soft quilt in a clearing in the forest. I can hear a waterfall bubbling in the distant and can smell the rich odor of the trees. It's lovely. And I just can't get over the work he has put into this, the effort he took to make it perfect._

_A picnic in the woods._

_Could it get any better?_

_Winter is finally passed us, and the ground is just dry enough to sit on, the temperature warm enough for us to sport bare arms._

_And did I mention that he is holding my hand?_

_Caught up in my blissful happiness, I finally look over at him. And it is then that I notice. Edward looks, well, _unwell_. His normally pink cheeks are palest white, his eyes glassy. A sheen of sweat has even coated his skin, reflecting the late afternoon sunlight. He notices my gaze, and tries to give me a brave smile._

"_Edward! You're sick!" I can't keep the accusing tone out of my voice. He shouldn't have come out if he was feeling so horrible. I mentally kick myself for not noticing sooner._

_He curses under his breath, probably because the charade is up. _

"_I really didn't want to cancel Bella, I didn't want to disappoint you. It's okay, I'll be okay. I just hope you're having a good time."_

_Believe me Edward, I am. I only wish you were too._

_._

_._

And so I wonder.

Could Edward have kept this massive secret to himself for the same reason; because he thought he could handle it, because he didn't want to burden me with it?

And I can't decide which is worse. Was it better for me to not know the reason for our breakup, and just feel the hurt of losing Edward, or to have learned the real reason, that we could possibly be brother and sister, and be broken on a whole different level?

I simply don't know.


	60. Chapter 60

Usual disclaimer applies.

* * *

March, 2012

~60~

Dad and I look to each other, both knowing that this "meeting" is his, that he is the one that is going to divulging of secrets and information. We are sitting at the small kitchen table once more, two untouched plates of pasta in front of us.

I am glad to have this school day behind me; avoiding so many people at such a small school is just exhausting. And it felt like Edward was around every corner today.

"So," Dad begins, letting out a large sigh, "Because the court wanted me to try and find your mom before they put a Summons by Publication out, I had to look. And, Bella, I have suspected an affair for a while, even before she left. But I was so busy with work, with raising a teenage daughter; I just didn't want to notice. I didn't want to believe."

I place my hand over his in understanding. I hadn't wanted to believe either, even though all the signs were there.

"But then I found out even more, how it happened before the Cullen's left town, back when you weren't even born… Bella, I just had to be sure. I'm so sorry Sweetie." His voice breaks, choking up at the thought of my dubious paternity.

"It wouldn't matter!" I blurt out. This is something he needs to know, and I feel a sudden burning desire to tell him as soon as possible. "I wouldn't matter if Carlisle was my biological father. I would never think of him that way, never claim him to be that. I don't care about the money or anything. You're my father, my Dad!"

And now I've made the poor man cry.

With a cracking, shaky voice, Dad manages to squeak out, "Thanks, Honey."

We both clear our throats at the awkwardness, and dig in.

The rest of supper is silent.

~SW~

I lay awake for hours, thinking.

I remember how secretive Alice had been right before she left, how one day she had been scoffing at the thought of Edward dumping me, and the next, encouraging it.

I wonder if she knew.

I think that she did.

And Esme. Did she, _does she_, really believe that I am Carlisle's daughter, or was that something she fabricated in order to get me out of Edward's life, out of her life? Either option is justifiable. Furthermore, how has she managed to keep Carlisle with her when Carlisle has continued to have feeling for Renee, for all of these years?

Why would Esme want to?

Well, that one is easy. For a woman like Esme Cullen, everything rides of social standing, on what impression people have of her. If people were to know that not everything was perfect in the Cullen household, that Carlisle had in fact been cheating on her for _years_, she would be ruined.

Suddenly, I know how to get back at Esme Cullen.


	61. Chapter 61

Usual disclaimer applies.

* * *

March, 2012

~61~

Waking up bright and early, I decide to go on a run before school. I have been slacking, missing runs left and right, and I feel groggy because of it. Besides, I think best when I am running, and I have got a lot of thinking to do.

I haven't figured out yet what to do about Esme that won't hurt Edward and Alice in the process. Despite the mistakes Edward has made this year, the person he became that is so different from the one I knew, I don't want his prospects ruined because he has a horrible mother. I myself would never want to be judged by what kind of person Renee was.

But I do know something needs to happen. Esme needs to face some kind of retribution for all the shit she has pulled. For telling Edward I was his sister when she really had no proof, for scaring my mother, forcing her to disappear.

Suddenly, I feel the presence of someone running right beside me, and I curse myself for always playing my music too loudly as I run, for wearing two headphones. I calm down when I realize it's only Jasper.

"I didn't know you ran." I try for amicability, knowing that Jasper is also a victim of Esme's malice. Because I truly believe Alice left, and chose a destination where she would be unreachable, because she couldn't handle knowing what Esme had told her, what had broken both her brother and her best friend.

"Yeah, well, I'll be in college in the fall and I don't want to gain the Freshman Fifteen."

I snort, knowing that a guy like Jasper has little to fear in that category. His metabolism and good genes will keep him fit until he is at least in his forties.

Seeing a bench fifty yards away, I indicate to Jasper that we should stop. He agrees and we take a rest on the bench. I stare at my hands, not really knowing what to say. We haven't been alone since that night he showed up at my door and I confessed to him what had happened back in September.

Suddenly, the air around us is thick with what's been left unsaid. I know Jasper has been going out of his mind, wondering what I found out, wondering if the drugs he had brought to the party actually led to…rape. Each day at school, sitting uncomfortably beside Jasper in history and being the object of his quiet, concerned gaze… yeah, it's clear that he is worried.

And yes, Jasper has been an asshole for the majority of this school year. He has been a bully towards those with no one to stand up for them, been hurtful to people who wish him no harm, me included. But I've known Jasper for a long time, and I know that underneath the cruelty, Jasper is just a broken-hearted kid, a person who was raised right by his parents but had to deal with too much in a short span of time and lashed out.

Because not only was Jasper betrayed by Alice when she cheated on him, he lost the presence of both her and his best friend. Edward has definitely not been the same person since last July, and Jasper himself has confessed to me how difficult it was to see him like that, to lose him.

And so I can't help but lay his worries to rest.

"Jasper, about the party last September… it turns out that what happened…um, it was consensual. And I truly believe that. I guess you could say it was a misunderstanding, one that led to a lot of hurt feelings and tears, I will admit. And yes, if I could go back and change it, never go to that party, never accept that drink from Jessica, I most definitely would. But since I can't, I'm just going to have to accept it. Hopefully I will be able to do that soon."

Jasper sits there in quiet contemplation after my long-winded speech.

A sharp gasp makes me look up to Jasper's horrified face.

"It was Edward, wasn't it?"


	62. Chapter 62

Usual disclaimer applies.

* * *

March, 2012

~62~

"How did you know?" My question is no more than a whisper.

Jasper looks desolate, and I'm suddenly panicking. Could Edward have told Jasper about my questionably paternity?

"Bella, back then the only person you would have consensual sex with would have been him. And the way he was after the party…yeah, that's how I know. But don't you see? It's my fault! I was the one who slipped him the GHB, hoping he might have a good time. And look what it did to you? This entire year you have thought you had been raped by one of your classmates!"

He's right.

And there's really nothing more for me to say.

Except…

"Jasper, do you know why Edward broke up with me?"

"No… I never found out." He narrows his eyes, probably wondering why this, of all things, I asked him.

My lips turn up in a slow smile and I stand up, done with this conversation.

And I can see a fork in the road up ahead, diverging the path into two, one leading back to my apartment complex, and one that I know heads towards the east end of Forks, where Jasper lives. And it feels like right now, Jasper and I will be parting ways both literally and figuratively. Because I know that no matter what, we will never again become the good friends that we once were. There is too much hurt, too many bitter memories there.

But I can't bring myself to hate him, to really hold any hard feelings against him. It's not worth the effort and besides, I do feel bad for what he has gone through, for the hardships he has faced. I feel bad that he turned into such a scumbag this year, that he lost who he was, who he should have been. And when I know the both of us will be going our separate ways after graduating, only to see each other when holidays, weddings, or funerals bring us back to Forks, what really is the point?

There is none.

Jasper and I run side by side until we come to the fork, where we wave at each other and go our separate ways.

* * *

A/N: I know some of you feel Jasper deserves more...hatred from Bella? I don't know. But I hope this helped you understand a little bit better where Bella is at. She isn't really forgiving Jasper, she is more letting it go, if that makes sense. Anyways, thanks for the reviews everyone!


	63. Chapter 63

Usual disclaimer applies.

* * *

March, 2012

~63~

Easing my way out of my truck, I stare up at Forks High. I can't wait to be done with this place. Done with the drama, the lies, the secrets. Done with the students who attend here, who solely focus on fitting in and doing whatever it takes to do so.

But I know I have unfinished business to attend to first.

To begin with, although I have applied to colleges across the country, unless I can win that scholarship, I know I won't be able to attend any that are out of state. And despite everything else that is going on in my life, this is causing me a lot of concern, a lot of worry.

Especially since the money is coming from the Cullen's, who may or may not like me after I go visit their house today after school.

Because Edward needs to learn the truth no matter how difficult it will be for me to tell him.

And it will be difficult.

It will be awkward, emotional, tense, and something that I would love to avoid. I mean, this is Edward Cullen. A boy whom I once loved with all of my heart, but is now someone who is essentially a stranger, a person I haven't talked to for this entire year, excluding that one, horrible conversation two days ago. I may be brave, daring, and all of those great things, but when it comes to this… it's hard to feel anything but dread.

And just like anything else that is being avoided, the end of the school day comes way too quickly. And the drive to the Cullen's house is even quicker.

Unlike the last time I was here, I notice that the security gate is indeed unlocked, affording me easy entry into the estate. And suddenly I am faced with the colossal, white house that while looks beautiful and serene from the outside, I know is filled with secrets, lies, and pain. Putting my truck into park and turning off the engine, I lean my cheek against the steering wheel, steeling myself for what I know is about to come.

Because… what will Edward's reaction be? I know the information I am here to share will undoubtedly make him feel better, will be relieving. Our entire relationship, one that must have looked so tarnished and blackened to Edward for this past year, will become clean again. The self-loathing he must have felt after finding out I was his sister while he still had feelings for me will have no reason to exist any longer.

But does this information really change all that much? Edward and I are still two different people now because of the lie, the story told by Esme to push my family away from her's. It has still led to crushing hurt, pain that seems insurmountable. It led to my mom disappearing, to Alice leaving. It has made the experience of my senior year of high school almost unbearable and despite Edward's outward appearance, I doubt he really fared much better than I did.

But even if what I am about to tell Edward can't change the past, can't undo the hurt that has occurred, it can at least help to improve the future, for both Edward and myself.

Taking several steadying, deep breaths, I exit my truck and walk up to the Cullen's front door.

Ringing the bell, I try to remain calm as I wait for it to be answered.

Only it isn't Edward who opens the door, peering down to look at me with equal amounts of surprise and disgust.

…It's Esme.

* * *

A/N: Okay everyone, this will be the last update until August 8th as I am travelling to Montreal for the amazing Osheaga music festival. It's going to be fabulous, wonderful, etc. but I will be offline for its entirety. So have an amazing week everyone!


	64. Chapter 64

Usual disclaimer applies.

* * *

March, 2012

~64~

"Bella."

It's amazing how much venom, how much hatred and disgust, Esme can fit into that one word. She has only opened the door halfway and in her heels, she is tall enough to look down her nose at me. From this close up, the perfect Esme Cullen doesn't look so perfect. I can see the wrinkles around her eyes and mouth, her eye makeup that has begun to clump, and her hair that has become frazzled.

And I stand up taller, a small smile gracing my lips.

This woman, this woman who has always intimated me, always frightened me with what she could do, what her potential was, suddenly isn't so daunting. Before, back when Alice and Edward were everything to me, I used to stay awake late into the night with worry, wondering if her unfounded dislike of me could mean she could take them away.

And she managed it. She has already taken away my mother, my best friend, and my boyfriend. What more can she do?

Esme is just an unhappy woman in an unhappy marriage. She must realize how little her own kids like her, how little anyone likes her. She must realize how little I care about her anymore.

"Esme. I just have a bit of…information that I need to tell Edward. It seems he was misinformed about some pretty important things. If you could just get him for me…"

Her face turns red and her eyes narrow. She quickly staunches her surprise though, and a tiny, sweet smile adorns her imperfect face.

She lets out a derisive snort. "Nothing you say has any interest to him, _Bella_."

A chuckle escapes me as well. Did she think she could wound me with that?

Pitiful.

"Oh, I don't know about that, _Esme_. I'm pretty sure he would be interested to know that I'm _not_ his sister."

She gasps, her eyes widening. And she abruptly looks crazed, mad. Her mouth is hanging open, the white of her eyes displayed. Her skin has quickly lost its tanning-salon color and is as white as a ghost.

And I can't help but go on, but take pleasure in the way she seems to shrink before me. She knows the web of lies she has built to keep Carlisle and Edward tied to her, not to Renee or me, is breaking down.

"He might also find it interesting to know that you threatened my mother by putting a target over my face—"

I don't finish, because suddenly I hear the loud snap of a slap, or skin hitting skin. A moment later I feel the burning sting on my cheek, causing my eyes to water.

_Ow._

I place a hand over my throbbing cheek, and taste blood in my mouth. She must have got my lip too. My ears are ringing and bright spots of light flicker behind my closed lids. Opening my eyes slowly, I see Esme, breathing hard, not looking the least bit remorseful. In fact, she looks ready to do a whole lot more.

But I have never been hit before, and I can't help but cringe away. It _hurts_. I quickly raise an arm over my head in protection, and curve my spine to lower myself even further. I peek through crook of my elbow in time to see Esme raise her arm again…

"Mom! What the _fuck_ are you doing?"

* * *

A/N: Hey everyone! I'm back from Montreal, which was absolutely fantastic. If you've never been, I would definitely recommend it. It's like being in Europe only much closer to home. Anyways, I hope this late chapter doesn't disappoint. Let me know what you think! :)


	65. Chapter 65

Usual disclaimer applies.

* * *

March, 2012

~65~

Quickly assessing the situation, Edward steps between Esme and I, turning his body so that he can gently hold onto one of my wrists while at the same time, glare down at Esme. I have a clear view of the side of his face, and it is terrifying.

Silent communication between mother and son ensues, and although I don't understand what was conversed, I see Edward relax slightly and Esme lower her arm. But as soon as Edward begins to lead me back, off of the threshold, Esme panics.

"Don't go with her, Baby! She's a liar! You have to believe me. You have to..." By this point, Esme is sobbing, screaming, trying to force herself out of the door that Edward is determinately trying to close. He eventually manages it, cutting off her angry screams abruptly.

He leans against the door, body slumped, chin resting on his chest. His eyes are closed and he is breathing heavily. He thrusts a hand angrily through his hair, a movement I recognize as his longstanding coping mechanism. And all I can do is stare, shell-shocked. My left wrist is still held tightly by Edward and my right hand holds onto my throbbing cheek. I feel trapped, unable to move. Unable to speak.

"What are you doing here, Bella?"

His question is merely a whisper, in a voice much too tired, too exhausted, for anything more. He keeps his eyes closed, and I wonder absently why he doesn't look at me.

I tug my left arm away from him, and he lets go after a moment. I begin to walk towards me truck, my safe haven, knowing that Edward will follow. I just…I need to get away from that house, from the vile woman who resides within it. I don't know how I can answer him. How I can compose myself enough to give him that, after everything that just occurred. Hell, I should hate him. Hate him for not telling me the truth last summer, for believing his crazy mother without question. A part of me just wants to leave, to leave this part of my life behind, and let Edward believe whatever he wants.

But I can't.

Stepping into the ancient truck, I take a few deep breaths, smelling the familiar scent, relaxing into the old, bench seat. After only a few minutes, Edward joins me.

And when he finally looks up, meeting my gaze, I'm surprised to see his cheeks have turned pink. Even the tips of his ears are a little red. And I know what this means.

He's embarrassed.

But when he looks closer at me, leaning forward and placing the lightest of touches on my aching cheek, embarrassment is left behind. A swirl of emotions flickers in his eyes. Anger, disgust, sorrow.

"I'm_ so_ sorry Bella. I can't believe she would… that she…"

I stop his apology with a slight shake of my head, knowing that this, of all things, is not his fault.

"Edward, she's done a lot worse to you. Trust me."

* * *

A/N: Sorry this one is so short, I literally finished writing it five minutes before I have to leave for work. Have a great day everyone!


	66. Chapter 66

Usual disclaimer applies.

* * *

March, 2012

~66~

Edward shakes his head slightly, disagreeing with my words. "She's never hit me Bella. Ever. She may be pathological and well, pretty horrible to live with, but she's wouldn't hit me. I still can't believe that she—"

I cut him off, the words pouring from my mouth before I can stop them. "She lied to you Edward!"

He freezes, narrowing his eyes quizzically at me. And I think I've surprised him. I mean, I haven't been to the Cullen's for almost a year. I haven't seen Esme, or hung out with Edward. How should I know if she is lying to him?

But when his face smooths out again, and he gives a brief nod, I can tell that he has accepted the fact that I know something, something big. But he's still doesn't back down. "Whatever it is, it doesn't matter right now. We need to get you some ice. Your cheek is already swelling."

I roll my eyes because this is the way Edward has always been. Overprotective and over-reactive.

I guess some things never change.

Edward quickly leaves the truck and, walking hastily, heads to the small guest house that sits on the Cullen's property. I wouldn't have wanted to enter the main house with Esme in it either. And I'm surprised she hasn't come out yet, screaming like a banshee, demanding Edward not talk to me. Perhaps she has already given up. Thinks we drove off into the sunset.

After all, the woman is certifiable.

I use the few moments that Edward is away to compose myself. Looking at the vanity mirror, I swipe under my eyes at the mascara that has collected there and brush my fingers through my wayward hair, pulling it back into a ponytail. Finally, I close my eyes, trying to regain some of my inner strength.

I jump when Edward opens the passenger door.

He presses a cloth to my cheek, and the cooling sensation of the ice it contains instantly helps relieve the burning pain. I life my hand up to me cheek to hold it against me, and Edward lets his hand fall back into his lap.

"Better?" His eyes are wide with concern, yet hopeful that his small action may have helped me. I nod my head and Edward looks slightly relieved. He leans back in his seat, hands behind his head, and stares out of the windshield, lost in thought.

"Remember Bella, when you first got this truck? I hated it. The only thing I liked was the fact that it couldn't go over forty miles an hour. And in an accident, I don't think anyone could even dent this monster." He chuckles.

My lips turn up in a smile too. Yeah, Edward hated the fact that my truck could break down at any minute, leaving me stranded on the highway. I always had to remind him that I owned and carried a cell phone...

And I suddenly feel anger at Edward. It's just been so long since then. So much has changed. And thinking back, I was such a kid back then, just a girl with no cares. I miss those times and I'm hurt that Edward is bringing them up now, not even acknowledging all that has changed since then. Pretending like this isn't the first time we've really spoken in almost a year.

He really has no right to bring up the past.

So I ignore his comment and fight down the hurt I feel at his nonchalance with those precious, past memories. Taking a deep breath, I say what I came here to say.

"Edward, the reason I wanted to talk to you is because my dad found some things out…well, details on the affair," He nods mutely, looking slightly sick. "And he also got a paternity test taken."

At this, Edward grabs my knee, alarmed at the direction I've taken the conversation. His hand is shaking slightly, and his face has darkened. He looks physically ill.

"Don't, Bella." he rasps, his voice trembling and small. The panicked expression he carries seems to worsen every second, and his hand tightens ever so slightly. Does he think I'm about to confirm his mother's suspicions? Didn't he already fully believe her lie?

"Edward!" My eyes are wide, my body stiff. I'm alarmed at his reaction, at the physical manifestation of his emotions. "Edward. It's alright. _I'm not your sister. _The results showed that Charlie is really my dad." My voice breaks at the last sentence, because the fact that Charlie is my dad means more to me than _anything_.

Edward lets out a foreign, unrecognizable sound and I suddenly find myself engulfed in his arms.

* * *

A/N:...So there you have it. Thoughts?

Have a great day everyone!


	67. Chapter 67

Usual disclaimer applies.

* * *

March, 2012

~67~

I extricate myself quickly from Edward's arms and it's like he doesn't notice. Sitting back in his seat, a small smile plays on his lips, and his face has brightened considerably. His eyes are sparkling, and his body appears relaxed.

I swear he suddenly looks younger.

"Well, that_ is_ something."

I lean towards him slightly, scarcely able to make out his words. They are muttered in the lightest of voices, his lips barely moving to accommodate them. And I realize they were not intended for me.

I quickly turn my head, looking back out the windshield, embarrassed. I can feel my cheeks warming, and am doubly glad for the coolness the ice provides. I cannot believe that I've been gawking at him, staring at him like he's a specimen to observe, an animal at a zoo that intrigues me. It is not my concern how he takes this news; I've done my job by telling him. That's it. That's all this should be.

But the fact that he is happy about it…

My lips tug upwards again, but I quickly stifle the unwanted smile.

Because, yeah, it's obviously good news, but doesn't he realize yet the implications? Doesn't he understand how this connects with his mother?

Dread courses through me, weighing me down like lead.

Edward is going to want to know more. He's going to want to know how I came to learn about the affair, how I was so sure Esme purposefully lied to him, and wasn't just mistaken. If I tell him about the photos Esme had taken of me…

Well, it's going to destroy any sort of positive image of Esme that Edward has left. Not that she deserves any better, I admit, but _come on_. This is his _mother_. No one wants to learn that kind of shit about the woman who raised them.

And I hate it. I hate that I'm going to be the one to tell him. That I'm the one that will tear his family apart…

_Finishing the job Renee started, eh Bella?_

I push the unbidden though aside. It's not like I care at all about Esme or Carlisle. They can go to hell. But Edward…

I just wish that he didn't have to be hurt in the crossfire, in the mess that began with our parents, but has harmed us in the process. Yeah, he's hurt me this year, desperately so, but anyone can see that he's been in pain too. How can I purposefully add to it?

And then there is Alice.

Oh, God. Alice.

The girl with more passion, more fire, than anyone I know. What will she make of this? It was this lie that basically forced her to leave home, to end all contact with anyone that she cares about.

Maybe Alice _is_ the major victim within this entire catastrophe. I can only hope that she won't let it deter her, let it put out her light. I can only pray that she has managed to escape the claws of the Forks' socialites enough for this scandal not to harm her any longer.

But there is no way I can let Esme get away with any of this. First of all, I would never forgive myself. I have too much respect for myself to let that happen. Secondly, my mother deserves her own retribution. For no matter what her choices were, what Esme did to her and to my family in the process was unacceptable.

Thirdly, the nutcase had the audacity to hit me.

And it goes without saying that my Dad won't let any of this slide either. He already knows about the photographs; I've even given them to him along with the receipt proving that Emmett McCarty was the person who took them. And the bruise that I'm positive will appear on my face is definitely not going unnoticed.

I close my eyes, releasing a sigh.

It would be kinder to tell Edward now, tell him all of it, then for him to find out from the gossiping busybodies of Forks once this all gets out. Who better to hear it from than me…the girl whose family Esme specifically targeted? How can he get a better deal than to hear the complete and honest truth?

I open my eyes and look down at the clock. Coming to this realization, this decision, has taken almost five minutes. Five minutes that Edward has had to think things through as well. I turn my head slowly, not sure what I'm going to find on his face.

And he is staring at me, smile gone, darkness in his eyes once more.

Okay… I think he's figured it out.

* * *

A/N: Sorry for the late update everyone. I blame the story _Edroar the Angry Lion_ by Tropical Sorbet. I basically read all 110 000 words of it (so far!) in the last 24 hours lol. Way too hilarious and addicting.


	68. Chapter 68

Usual disclaimer applies.

* * *

March, 2012

~68~

I don't need prompting. I don't need him to elaborate on a question. I know what he wants.

We stare at one another, and I think Edward grasps how serious this conversation is, how life-altering the information I'm imparting to him will be. His eyes are dark, gazing into my own. His mouth is set into a firm line, his jaw clenched.

I begin.

"At the beginning of the month I found out Carlisle and Renee dated back in high school. And it was a shock, for sure, but I didn't think much of it. Then…well, I looked through Renee's things and found a key to a safe deposit box. It was just…odd. I mean, why would she need one? So I got the box and—"

"You _got_ the box?" Edward has his eyebrows raised and humor shines in his eyes.

"Well, I may have pretended my mother was dead and forged a copy of her death certificate…" I hurry my words, cringing at how they must sound. But Edward only chortles.

"A Classic Bella, always finding a way." He chuckles lightly to himself, lost in some memory. I quickly bring him back.

"Edward, in it there were pictures of me. Pictures with a target covering my face." Any humor that was on his face a moment ago has quickly dissipated. "And it was Esme. She solicited Emmett McCarty to take them."

Edward tenses and it's like he's vibrating. With anger? Horror? He swallows loudly and gives me a quick nod.

"Why?"

I'm shocked at how readily he believes me, not even questioning how I know.

"It was a threat against Renee, to get her to leave town."

"And this is why she left almost two years ago? These pictures are from back in Sophmore year?"

"Yes. April. Taken from the coffee shop."

Edward's eyes widen momentarily. I wonder if he remembers. If he remembers that day as well as I do.

It was the day he first said he loved me, after all. The day I confessed to being in love with him, too.

But after a few moments, Edward continues on.

"Then what?" He is all business now. I recognize his technique. Numbing the pain, letting what I'm telling him to not sink in. Obtaining the information as though it is separate from him, as though it doesn't affect him.

He will deal with it when he is ready.

"Well, I realized something more must have been going on for Esme to feel so anxious that she had to do that, had to force my mother out of town. I had wrestled with thoughts of a longstanding affair, but it was my dad who figured it out first, just last week."

And I can tell that this mystifies Edward. After all, my dad is chief of police, a man who solves crimes every day. Why had it taken him this long to figure it out? To unearth the crime that had been going on under his nose for years?

I sigh. "He started divorce proceedings, meaning he _had_ to search for her, had to delve into all of this. But I don't think he really wanted to. Anyway, he must have realized what went on because he took a sample of my blood, with a bogus excuse of course." I smile fondly. _Oh, Dad_. "And after you…um, told me what Esme had you believe…" Edward and I both cringe. "I came home, and Dad had the test results waiting. I really am his daughter, Edward."

"And you think Esme purposefully lied to me about you?"

I nod. "I do. What conclusive evidence did she have to be so sure about my paternity? I think she thought getting Renee out of town would be enough, would make her feel stable enough in Carlisle, in their relationship. But my guess is that it wasn't even close. She couldn't let it go that easily and that's when I think she decided I had to be out of the picture too."

Edward is quiet after my longwinded explanation.

And I'm thoroughly surprised by how easy it is to talk to him. How comfortable I've grown in the last five minutes, sitting with my ex-boyfriend/ex-potential brother here in my truck. If someone had told me a couple of months ago that this would be happening, that I would be sharing with Edward Cullen the secrets and hardships that have most affected me, I would have said they were crazier than Esme. But I can't argue with how I feel. And I feel like Edward and I are finally on the same page. Finally at an understanding.

It's…nice.

And it is in his quiet, contemplative manner that he begins to speak as well.

"Living with Esme…" he shakes his head, eyes closed. I can see how frustrated he is and can only imagine how trapped he must feel. "It's like she is constantly pretending. You know? Like whenever she even fucking smiles it seems fake, like she is putting on an act. And I swear it's been like that for years, or at least since we moved back to Forks. But I guess I know why that is, though."

And our silent communication says everything. We both know of the hurt caused by having a parent betray us, betray our families. It's something that there are no words to describe. Nothing that can be said will make it better, so why even try? What passes between Edward and I in this look, this single look, says more than words ever could.

And in this one moment it is almost like the past year, this year in which Edward and I never spoke, in which I closed myself off from almost all social interaction and Edward tried to force himself into it, had never happened. The closeness that once existed between Edward and I, the ability to know what the other was thinking, or feeling…well, it's back.

And it terrifies me.

* * *

A/N: Geez, I couldn't stop writing this one lol. I hope it appeases all of you who want more haha.


	69. Chapter 69

Usual disclaimer applies.

* * *

March, 2012

~69~

I step out of my truck, welcoming the cool, spring air. Leaning against the truck's side, I close my eyes and take cleansing, deep breaths, trying to get my thoughts back in order.

I hear Edward open his door, coming out too.

And I suddenly feel his presence in front of me.

"Bella, I know what you're worried about."

My eyes pop open.

He can't possibly know…

How can he tell how panicked I am? How unsure I am about being here, being with him? I just…how could I possibly allow myself to trust him again? How can I open myself up for that hurt, that crippling pain, that I felt last summer?

I need to protect myself.

"None of this is your fault, and no matter what happens, with my parents I mean, I would never blame you for telling, or for laying charges against my mother. Shit, just the fact that even now I can see her handprint on your face…" Edward shakes his head, trying to rid himself of whatever dark thought had entered his mind. "Yeah, she deserves whatever she gets."

_Oh. _

This is what he thinks is worrying me? That I will feel guilty and at fault if Edward has a fallout with his parents, if Esme is convicted for her crimes? Shit. Now that I think about it, what Edward just said does comfort me some. However…

Despite all that has happened, all that Edward has suffered because of his parent's choices, can he really side with me when it comes down to it? His love for his parents should be unconditional; it should make him want them in his life, for better or for worse. What am I? Just a girl he had feelings for in high school? It's not like he hasn't moved on already.

"Edward, I…" I take a deep breath, still afraid to look at him. "I need to go. I know my dad will be taking Esme to court. Just… think hard, okay? Think about what you really want. You don't need to be involved. You could stay out of it, keep your head above water in what I assume is going to be a huge mess. I'm truly sorry that this is going to hurt you, too. I have never wanted to hurt you."

I step away and fumble with my truck door. I still don't look at him, concentrating solely on attaching my seatbelt and starting the truck. However, as I pull away, I can't help but risk a glance in the rear-view mirror. Edward is still standing in the same spot, the same position.

And if I'm not mistaken, he looks… _determined_.

* * *

A/N: Okay, be prepared for some time jumps and a fast pace coming up. Since the major conflicts are pretty much resolved, I wouldn't want to drag out the falling actions or the resolution. There is still a lot to cover however, it's just going to be somewhat quicker.

Have a great day everyone!


	70. Chapter 70

Usual disclaimer applies.

* * *

March, 2012

~70~

I tell Dad.

About inadvertently confronting Esme.

About her little freak out.

The ice wrapped in a cloth that Edward gave me is still tucked away in my hand, and I know my cheek must be bright red considering the numbing cold sensation I feel.

Edward also said a handprint was visible.

And I can tell that Dad is beginning to lose it; that his mask for dealing with police matter, which I guess he would consider this to be, is starting to slip. His eyes have hardened; they aren't the brown pools of warmth that I'm used to. He sits rigidly in his chair, absorbing all that I'm telling him, trying to figure out what to do.

What can we do?

Everyone in this town _loves_ the Cullen's. It is Carlisle's company that brought people here, that made Forks prosper. The Cullen's are the reason the east enders have money; the reason this town has money. And I know my Dad. He is not going to just charge Esme with something that will amount to a fine and that's that. He will want a trial. He will rack up the charges so that she ends up with jail time.

This entire thing is about to go public, and I can't help but think that it's the Swan's that this town is going to sharpen their pitchforks for,_ not_ Esme and Carlisle.

After Dad takes a couple pictures of my cheek and lip, I go to bed. I'm too weary to deal with much else; too apprehensive for what tomorrow might bring.

~SW~

Today when Edward passes me in the hallway, he doesn't just look the other way, he doesn't simply use the fact that I'm a foot shorter than him to look over my head and pass by like every other day.

Today Edward smiles at me. His eyes are concerned, wondering how I am. He eyes my cheek, which looks much better today and is lightly covered in foundation anyway. He is about to speak.

But with a quick glance, I look the other way, stifling the eye contact, piercing the connection. I just…can't go there. Not yet. Not when, after everything with Esme comes to light, Edward is bound to hate me. I know he said yesterday he would support me, but call me a skeptic because I'm doubtful.

I also can't help but feel resentful. I know Edward was hurting over the whole Bella-is-my-sister thing, but he still could have at least been decent to me this past year. He could have stood up for me. Why does he suddenly care? How can he go from ice cold to warm in the span of a day?

It's confusing. It's hurtful.

~SW~

Dad isn't home by the time supper is on the table.

I eat alone.

And I know why he is putting in the extra hours. He is doing everything he can to ensure Esme doesn't get off. He is researching all the legalities that will support his case.

I wonder if he is going to look for Mom, too.

Because if he needs to turn his harassment charge into a criminal offense, having Renee as a victim would be extremely helpful. She was the one, after all, who was terrified enough by Esme's threat to leave town, to desert her family. And even though I doubt Dad ever wants to see her again, I know he will shelve his pride and seek her out, if it helps his case.

I dish a plate for Dad and leave it in the fridge. I wipe the counters and table, and just as I finish washing the day's dishes, I hear the front door open. Dad finds me in the kitchen and the weariness, the exhaustion, is evidence in his features.

"Hey, Dad." I give him a sympathetic smile. "I made your favourite today."

He sighs, and a smile graces his fatigued face. "Bella, you're the best."

* * *

A/N: Sorry for this delay. I have no excuse, except being addicted to Pintrest lol.


	71. Chapter 71

Usual disclaimer applies.

* * *

March, 2012

~71~

When I angle my truck into the school parking lot Friday morning, I can hear the cheers and yells coming from behind the gym. From the sounds of it, half the student body is there.

Not being one to run from my curiosity, I exit my truck and head in that direction.

And I'm right.

It's a mass of people. And at first I don't understand the reason why. It's one of the disadvantages of being so short: not being able to see over the heads of my classmates. But pushing my way through, it becomes all too clear.

The mass of teenagers are huddled together in a circle, all fighting for position, fighting to see. They are shouting, screaming out cheers, going freaking nuts. And in the center…

Jasper Hale and Jacob Black.

It's an interesting pair because in the case of a fight, they are complete opposites. Jacob is huge, way bigger than Jasper, and _tough_. Wearing a leather jacket, boots, faded jeans. Yeah, he looks dangerous. But I knew Jacob pretty well from when Dad would drag me out to the reserve and I know he's not really into fighting, or at least into beating the shit out of a guy who doesn't deserve it. Beating someone for fun. Jacob is more of the type to only use his physical proficiency if necessary, to fight only in defence.

And then there's Jasper.

For being an east-ender, and looking like an ad for Abercrombie & Fitch, Jasper really knows how to throw a punch. And although he is a lot smaller than Jacob, this year Jasper has proven how much he loves to fight. How much he loves to inflict pain on others.

And perhaps this is the reason why the fight that everyone is here to see, the fight that has made the student body more alive than any pep rally or sporting event our school has to offer, hasn't even happened yet.

Jasper and Jacob are circling each other, leaning in close, spitting out what I'm sure are despicable insults. Their fists are clenched at their sides, their bodies tense. I can see the eye contact, and I surmise that to them, it's like the crowd isn't even here.

I wonder if anyone besides myself know what this is about, knows the reason why there is a fight to begin with. And I guess the only other person would be…Edward.

I peer around to all of the faces in the crowd, wondering if Edward is witnessing this too. But I don't see him. In fact, I don't see that many people I recognize at all. Just… nameless faces. And I abruptly wonder where my head has been all year. To not know so many students at this tiny excuse for a high school, it's just… strange. Unusual for me, who is usually so perceptive…

Suddenly a loud cheer goes up and Jacob and Jasper are on each other. I have no idea who threw the first punch, who initiated the attack, but it's vicious.

It's a fight of passion, of pride.

And it shows.

They are on the ground, fighting for position, using all of their power, their fury, to hurt one other. I'm not one to be squeamish, but _this_, yeah. It's gruesome. Blood is beginning to splatter and whenever I manage to get a look at one of their faces, I cringe.

I gasp, suddenly desperate for air. When a second ago I was watching the fight, I'm suddenly peering at the cloudy sky through haze-filled eyes, my breath forced out of me. I slowly attempt to get up, only to be knocked to the side.

The crowd is getting violent, vicious. Wanting to get closer.

I stumble my way to my feet just as I feel a warm hand grasp my waist and pull me back. Out of the crowd. Away from the fight. Blinking, I look around for who helped me, but I'm alone, standing five feet away from the fight.

A loud, pathetic groan issues from the crowd, and I know the fight has come to an end.

* * *

A/N: Ooo, who could it be? ;) Have a great day everyone.


	72. Chapter 72

Disclaimer: characters owned by SM.

* * *

March, 2012

~72~

The teachers arrive just as the crowd is dispersing. They come as a wall, like the problem will be solved by their mere presence. They advance, and everyone who hasn't already, scatters. But the evidence is still there. The blood. The people. It is Sam who is holding Jacob, grasping him by the shoulders, trying to bring some sense to him.

I can imagine what he is telling him. Telling him not to be stupid, to cool down. That these people will eat him alive. That fighting Jasper Hale, who's dad is a movie star and well-liked in this town, will get him nowhere but backwards.

It definitely won't get Alice back.

And Jasper, standing about ten feet away from Jacob and Sam, is seriously looking… _nonchalant_. His hands are occupied by his iPhone, his face sculpted into an expression of mild amusement at whatever he is reading on the tiny screen.

The teachers are huddled in a circle, talking, arguing, wondering what they should do that won't put any blame on _themselves_. Because if they fault Jasper as well as Jacob, the east-enders will have something to say. If they don't, the rest of the town as well as La Push will definitely have something to say. I don't doubt that they will fault Jacob though.

I hear the mild purr of an engine cutting off, and a few minutes later Edward approaches, looking weary and concerned. He walks straight for Jasper and begins to talk, not letting Jasper get in a word. This must be who Jasper was texting. Hmm.

And I look around, noticing that I'm really the only student left gawking, staring, and really, what business is it of mine anyway? I turn around, and begin to head towards the school. But Jasper and Edward aren't far behind.

"Hi, Bella."

"Bella, hey."

I nod at the pair, looking behind me to do so. Is it weird that Jasper's split lip and bruising eye no longer even bother me? Like I said, he gets into a lot of fights.

And behind Edward and Jasper, I can see Jacob and I can see Sam.

And the looks they are giving me are nowhere near friendly.

Just wonderful.

* * *

A/N: So I got a comment about it, so I thought I'd better explain. Yes, some of the plot is based on the show, Veronica Mars. A show that I absolutely adore. If you haven't seen it, just go buy the seasons because you're going to want to watch them over and over haha. I wanted to explore some of the plot in the show with a twific because I knew it could be done. Obviously there are several differences, and I know one comment said they didn't even connect the two until way later! I hope you realize I have no intention of plagiarizing, I just wanted to see where I could take it, sort of like stories that are canon.

On a different note, as you can tell, I can't update as frequently as during the summer because I've begun my teaching internship, meaning I'm BUSY! But my goal is still to update a few times a week, so please bear with me. Thank you and have a great day!


	73. Chapter 73

Usual disclaimer applies.

* * *

March, 2012

~73~

"So, what are your plans for the weekend?"

Angela's question startles me from my thoughts, and depressing and gloomy as they were, I'm glad. We are sitting in the cafeteria, Angela on my left, Ben on my right. Apparently they had a small _disagreement_, so I am being used to diffuse the awkwardness.

And plans for my weekend? Nothing. Nothing except help Dad pour over the legalities of the case, over court cases of similarity from the past, hoping to find _anything_ to help us. I don't plan on leaving the house at all.

Well, that may have more to do with the fact that I'm avoiding several people. Edward. Jasper. Sam. It's like I'm stuck in limbo, not sure what people know, what people are thinking.

Edward and Jasper look at me like I'm some poor creature, something pitiful. They go out of their way to be sweet and kind, but really, it's just patronizing. Yeah, maybe I could have used some support this past year, when things were shit, but I managed. I stood up for myself. People learned to back off. What makes them think that I need them now? That I want them?

Really, that ship has sailed.

And now the LPR's are going to be pissed off. The fact that I even acknowledged Jasper and Edward this morning will _not_ go over well. I can only hope my dad doesn't hear about it if he heads down to La Push.

So far, Dad has no idea that Edward and I reached an understanding, that I've come to grasp his thought processes this past year, and that I acknowledge that he has suffered, too. The fact that Dad is preparing to enter into battle with Edward's mother means he doesn't want me in contact with Edward at all. And now that Dad is out of the dark in knowing some of the hurt I've gone through this last little while, he is a_ bit_ crazy on the whole protection front.

I sigh and stare at Angela.

"Not much, Angela."

She nods, turns a quick glare towards Ben, who is seated on the other side of me, and looks down at her food.

~SW~

I spend a few hours after school working in the library, trying to get everything done before the weekend. Trying to make the pile of assignments and notes somewhat smaller, somewhat manageable. If I didn't have to work so hard, have to keep my average near-perfect, I would have been home long ago.

So when I step into my apartment, knowing Dad would have already eaten, would have had to fend for himself, I feel guilty. He works so hard each and every day. He doesn't need to come home to an empty house, too.

I drop my bag in the small foyer and pad over to the kitchen.

Dad sits there, holding his newspaper. He jumps a little when I greet him. I guess he didn't hear me come in. I guess he was lost in thought.

And I know something is amiss. I know something isn't right. It's written all over his face. His tight lips. The wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. His eyebrows pulled together, deep valleys between them.

He looks at me, compassion and worry the most dominant emotions I can make out. Reaching a hand across the small table, he grasps one of mine, enveloping me in his warmth.

"Bella," he begins, his voice quiet and strained, "I-I've found your mother."

* * *

A/N: I'm excited people, for what's gonna happen. I must say, working out the finer details for the rest of the story...yeah, I'm stoked. Anyway, let me know what you think of this one and have a wonderful day :)


	74. Chapter 74

Usual disclaimer applies.

* * *

March, 2012

~74~

I gasp quietly, a wave of ice spreading through me.

Mom?

He's found _Mom_?

The woman who I've had to push from my mind for the last two years? The woman who I've had to force myself to forget, force myself to only remember the bad things about, so that it wouldn't hurt so damn much?

"What…How…?" I can barely speak.

"I had to get really creative, I admit. Renee must have been listening really carefully over the years, you know, to my stories, to police talk. She literally perfected how to disappear. No credit card use. Switching license plates. Using a friend's ID. She's done it all."

"Where is she?" My voice sounds completely foreign, and I think I only caught a few words from what Dad just said. It's like I'm underwater, like I'm frozen.

He blows out a breath. "In Texas. Staying with an old college friend. She…drinks. Well, Elizabeth said it's worse. Worse than when she lived here."

"And Elizabeth is her…?"

"Friend." Dad nods.

So Mom drinks. It really shouldn't surprise me. A day never went by without her needing wine, or beer, or hard liquor, in the evening. When her and Dad were in their twenties, their friends would be so impressed by how little Renee could drink them under the table. After Renee had me, the drinking became more of a private matter. And I can't say I noticed much. I was just a kid. It was a part of Renee, part of crazy, scatterbrained Renee.

And with Dad having a beer most evenings too, it really hadn't been such a big deal.

But now...

Despite my whirring thoughts, the shock of knowing my mom is no longer missing, I wonder just how bad it has become. I _worry_.

No.

I can't go there. Renee has been found solely for the purpose of our case. To help us fight Esme Cullen. She stopped being my mother when she ran off without confessing to Dad, without doing _something_ to protect me. Because despite Renee's apparent wishful thoughts, her leaving definitely helped me in no way when Esme decided to break up Edward and I.

So I turn to face Dad, my face hard and resolute.

"Is she going to come? For the trial? To help you get Esme arrested?"

Dad's face turns mournful when he sees the direction I have taken the news.

All business.

"Bella. Your mother has missed y—"

"No, Dad. I really don't want to hear it. Is she going to come for the trial?"

And Dad surprises me more than ever. He lays his head down on his arm, and speaks almost silently. "I will never forgive her. For hurting you. For leaving her only daughter behind. The other stuff, the cheating, the lies, it just pales when I think about what she has done to you. I am so sorry, Bella."

And I can't help but soften, just a bit. Warmth begins to spread through my limbs, pushing out the ice cold that was residing.

Thank God for my dad.

"Dad, if I didn't have you, it could have been so much worse. Don't-don't apologize. It wasn't your fault. It wasn't."

And the emotions and the tension in the kitchen is way too much to handle. Spinning on my heel, I escape, making my way up to my bedroom, to something that doesn't change, that doesn't knock me flat.

I fall face down on my bed, burying my face into my pillow. A second later, my phone vibrates. A text message.

_Bella. She will be coming for the trial – Dad_.

* * *

**A/N: Hi everyone! I just received VERY exciting news. This story has been nominated for an Emerging Swan Award for the category of Best Adventure/Mystery/Crime/Western/Historical. I will put the link to the website on my profile. If you are enjoying this little story, I would LOVE if you could go and vote! Voting begins on the 12th and goes until the 21st. Thank you so so much! :)**


	75. Chapter 75

Usual disclaimer applies.

* * *

May, 2012

~75~

The past two months have been busy to say the least. With homework, studying for the SAT's, and helping Dad with his case, I feel like I haven't had a single moment just to _enjoy_. At school, my sole focus is on my work; nothing else. The only times I talk to Angela and Ben anymore is at lunch. Otherwise, I rarely speak to anyone.

At home, the atmosphere is tense. Dad knows my stance on Mom. He knows the disgusting feelings that still reside in me when I think about her.

He knows that I don't want to see her.

So whenever Dad sighs quietly and leaves the kitchen table, or the living room sofa, and shuffles his way to his bedroom, closing his door, I know what he is doing.

He's talking to _her_.

Because without Renee, we have so little to go from. The pictures, the threatening photographs, they were a weapon used against Renee, not against me. They were used to terrify her. A harassment charge against Esme, without Renee's witness, would only get her a slap on the wrist.

And Dad is out for blood.

On a positive note, Dad managed to find a witness placing Emmett McCarty at the butcher shop on that day over two years ago. The witness even says he saw a camera, and remembered it because it was such an expensive, high-tech one.

Moreover, Emmett is not a guy you are likely to forget. At six foot six inches, he is a beast of a man. And presumably wearing the suit and shades like always, he would have been very memorable in a small-town butcher shop. Our witness is a regular at the shop and had never seen Emmett there before or after that one day.

Another of Esme's mistakes.

So tonight when Dad leaves the sofa, handing me the remote halfway into his baseball game, I feel my stomach settle into knots.

_Again_.

Like every time this happens, I am wracked with guilt. Because I know Dad wants to talk to my mom as little as I do. I know it hurts him to have to do it, time and again, trying to hammer out the details. Trying to find a time where the alcohol hasn't already made her incoherent, useless. I wonder about how much easier it would be for him if he could only talk to me about it, share his feelings, have a shoulder to lean on.

But I'm too selfish for that. I close down as soon as she is mentioned. So Dad bears the burden alone.

And when Dad goes and talks to her, besides overwhelming guilt, I worry. I worry that this time, _this time_, will be the time Renee gives up. The time she tells him she is done, and is disappearing again.

I wouldn't put it past her.

Dad tries to explain how much she wants it too. How much she detests Esme and is itching to see her behind bars. He explains that Renee has even offered to come here, to help out. But of course, being the protective father that is he, he won't let her.

He says she can come later. That we have plenty of time before a trial happens. He basically means that she can come _after_ I leave for college.

I change the channel from baseball to a sitcom, not caring what it is. My thoughts, my very being, is upstairs with Dad. And I'm holding my breath. Waiting. Waiting.

I jump when I feel his hand on my shoulder.

_Oh no_.

It's too soon.

His phone calls have never been this short.

This is it.

The time she tells him. Tells him she is done. Done with it all.

I can feel it.

I shudder and wearily turn my torso to look at Dad. I prepare myself for the defeat, the desperation I know will be marking his face. I prepare myself to dig deep, to support him, despite the nausea this entire topic gives me.

But as I slowly open my eyes, having previously been scrunched tight in concentration, the only thing I see on my father's face is a beaming smile.

He's _glowing_.

"Bella! This is it. Our lawyers say we have enough. Enough to go on. First thing tomorrow, I'm heading to the Cullen's."

* * *

A/N: I hope you don't mind the bit of a time jump! I'd also like to remind you to please vote at the Emerging Swan Awards for this story, if you would like :)

Have a wonderful day everyone!


	76. Chapter 76

Usual disclaimer applies.

* * *

May, 2012

~76~

The morning after Dad explained his decision to finally arrest and charge Esme begins normally enough. I sit in journalism class, working quietly on the article I am writing for the school newspaper.

Not that anyone actually reads the newspaper.

I can hear the quiet undertow of noise around me. Whispers, conversations, buzzing from headphones, vibrations from phones. Most of my classmates are in their desks, while others work in small groups at the tables in the back. Using the avoidance techniques I have implemented for the past two months, I sit in a desk on the opposite side of the room to Edward and Jasper.

It would do me no good to be sitting near Edward today, of all days.

And despite the paragraph that I have written during the past fifteen minutes, my mind is far, far away from the topic of deforestation of the Olympic Peninsula.

I am on pins and needles for when it will happen. When Dad will arrest Esme. Because I know that the moment it occurs, everyone in this school will know.

And so I jump a little when my phone vibrates.

_Heading there now, Bells. – Dad._

Luckily, the class ends in a few minutes and I have my spare period next. Waiting impatiently for the bell, I hightail it out to my truck as soon as it sounds.

And sitting in the driver seat, Metric playing quietly over the speakers, I try to stifle the acidic panic that is threatening to bubble over. I try to tame my despairing thoughts, halt my trembling hands. But I know that the minute I step into that school at the end of this hour, everyone will turn their eyes on me.

_My_ eyes are trained on the doors to the school and therefore I get a clear, unobstructed view of Edward as he descends the steps.

Now, I cannot deny that I have spent _a lot_ of time ogling this boy. Practically from the first time I met him before freshman year until the heartbreak of last summer gave me reason to stop, I have watched him. I've studied him.

I know him.

And therefore I can tell from his posture, even from this distance, that he is greatly upset. His hands are clenched into fists at his sides, his back held rigid so that his arms barely move as he walks. He looks straight ahead, and rapidly walks to his car.

I slink down in my seat as soon as he turns in my direction.

Edwards little Evo is parked only three spots down from my truck, and therefore he is heading straight towards me. I carefully reach out to turn my music down to just a gentle hum, and slide even lower in my seat. But when I hear the _slam!_ of his car door, I can't help but jump.

But that's nothing considering the tiny scream I admit when I hear my phone go off.

Because it's not my regular ringtone.

It's the instrumental version of _Here in Your Arms_ by Hellogoodbye. A song that I had once danced to with Edward and jokingly put as my ringtone for when he phoned.

I guess I never got around to changing it.

And so my phone lies innocently enough on my passenger seat, all lit up and softly vibrating into the fabric of the seat. But in reality, it's a ticking time bomb.

I tentatively reach over and pick it up, the weight of it feeling heavy in my hand. Looking at the display, I have confirmation that Edward is really phoning me.

From three vehicles away.

So I shakily open the phone, bringing it close to my ear.

"He-hello?" My voice sounds even weaker than I feel.

"Bella!"

Edward's voice… It's cold. And angry.

And I'm afraid for what he's about to say.

* * *

A/N: Hi everyone! I hope you enjoy this one. The next chapter shouldn't take too long so don't fret about the cliffy ;). If you haven't already, please please go and vote at the Emerging Swan Awards for _So Wrong_. The 21st is the final day of voting. I would really appreciate it!

Have a wonderful evening everyone!


	77. Chapter 77

Usual disclaimer applies.

* * *

May, 2012

~77~

"Uh…Yeah?" Is my eloquent reply.

I wonder if I could sound any less intelligent.

"You're okay? Where are you?" Edward practically shouts into the phone, making me quickly pull mine away from my ear. _Ow_.

He still sounds so angry, so _hostile_. But I am almost positive I detected some worry, some concern, in his tone.

_Why does he want to know if I'm okay?_

"Edward, I'm fine. What's going on?" My voice is low and measured. My words are a falsehood. I know exactly what's wrong.

My dad just arrested his mom.

"You-you're not at school?" And he's nervous suddenly. Ashamed? Horrified? I can't tell. I need more than just a disembodied voice over a cheap cell phone.

"Umm, I have a spare now. So no. I'm not at school. I mean, I will be going back soon." I'm stuttering, and rambling. I'm shaking. I take a deep breath.

Come on, Edward. Just tell me. Let me know how upset you are. Tell me how my dad is making a mistake, that I'm making a mistake. Tell me that you've forgiven your mom, that you chose her over me. Why wouldn't you choose her, Edward? She's your mother. Your flesh and blood. Who am I, after all?

My swirling thoughts are broken by his reply.

"Don't go back there Bella. Not today. The shit everyone is saying—it's not a good place right now. I-I heard so many threats, so much bullshit. I don't know why they all blame you, I don't."

His words are spoken so hurriedly, so rushed. I can barely understand what he is saying. I just need him to stop.

"Edward!"

My exclamation quiets him.

"I figured when Dad told me what he was doing this morning—" I pause. Letting Edward take in the fact that we both know what went down at his house roughly fifteen minutes ago. "—that things might become a bit dicey at school. So…I'm not in school. But I need to go back. No matter what they are saying. I'm not running from this, Edward."

Edward rushes in, barely letting me finish my last sentence. "But they are _threatening_ you, Bella! And tell me, what am I supposed to say? I'm so fucking angry, because they don't know _shit_. But can I really tell them that yes, my mother is crazy? That she actually deserves to be arrested? Fuck, I can barely admit it to myself. I hate that they make it their business. It's not their business!"

Well, hell. He sounds just about ready to lose it.

"I know it's not, Edward. I don't like it either." And it's like I'm talking to child who is prone to tantrums. Slow, calm, controlled. "But we just have to push through. Only two weeks until graduation."

I'm not going to admit to him that my greatest reason for _needing _to be at school is his parent's scholarship. That without money from his family, my hopes of leaving Forks anytime soon will be extinguished.

"Okay. Bella, okay. But just…be careful. Watch your back?"

And the concern is _definitely_ there. His voice is more measured, and I'm relieved that he isn't panicking anymore. I was moments away from leaving the safety of my truck to go to him. To help him.

"Yeah. Okay. I can do that."

"Good."

We hang up without saying anything further and I toss my phone aside, leaning my head back and closing my eyes.

_She deserves to be arrested._

That's really what he said? About Esme? Could he possibly mean that?

Because…as angry and hurt as I am over Renee, and her choices, could I ever really condemn her to that? To _prison_?

I'm just not sure.

And I don't think I can be sure about Edward, either.

* * *

A/N: Hey everyone! I'm sorry for updating so late, it's just been a bit hectic here. I will honestly try to get better :)

Some things have happened this past weekend that has affected my sister's good friend for the rest of her life as well as a little boy at my school who no longer has a Dad. Please, when you chose to drink, don't drive. Follow road laws because they are there for a reason. Please, stay safe. Thanks.


	78. Chapter 78

Usual disclaimer applies.

* * *

May, 2012

~78~

Swirling emotions conflict. My head hurts with the barrage of thoughts, the different voices in my head telling me opposing things.

I don't know how I ought to be feeling.

But hurt definitely shouldn't be the most prominent emotion.

And that's exactly what is weighing me down, flowing through my veins, making my stomach ache and my eyes prickle.

Hurt.

Edward owes me nothing. We are not a couple. We're not even friends. We have a shared past; that's it. Yet the fact that he couldn't stand up for me, even the smallest amount, it's like a punch to the gut.

And I don't know why.

I mean, this entire year he hasn't said a word in my defense. I have learned to support myself, to have a thick skin. I've learned that relying on anyone only ever leads to being let down.

So I can't understand why it hurts so much now.

Had I been letting my guard now? Been forgetting the Edward from this past year because of the brief glimpses he has shown of kindness? Because he started talking to me again?

Pathetic.

And I had been itching to help him. To comfort him when he sounded so upset.

What is wrong with me?

I open my eyes, self-disgust and shame tearing down the hurt I was feeling before. I jump a little when I see the time, and dread going back into the school. I feel weak, not ready to face the mass of teenagers just burning to take out whatever angst they have on me.

_Only two more weeks._

Like I told Edward, I have to push through.

~SW~

I head straight to English, keeping my eyes forward, ignoring the words, both whispered and spoken loudly enough for anyone to hear. I ignore the stares, the glares, and the people who turn away, embarrassed to have me in their presence, apparently.

I sit down in my desk, taking a deep breath and feeling relief at making it here in one piece. But I can see my English teacher giving me a sidelong glance, and I slump a little in my seat.

I only remember at this moment that her husband works for Carlisle.

After a few minutes of watching students file in, surprise on their faces at seeing me there, I feel a presence beside me and sigh as Ben sits down.

"How you holding up, B?" He whispers it, but I still appreciate him there, with me.

I put on my brave face, like I always do, and give Ben my best, sparkling smile.

I don't think he buys it for a minute.

~SW~

We exit the class, Ben walking quietly beside me.

"I'll see you this afternoon, Ben. I think I'll go home for lunch. Because, well, you know." I speak quietly, still leery of drawing attention to myself. And it makes me even madder. Where is the Bella from this morning? When I came to school, already knowing this was going to happen. Where is the Bella who could care less what these people thought?

But having my English teacher practically ignore me for the periods' entirety has set me on edge.

I push open the big red door, heading outside, after saying a quick goodbye to Ben. The mid-day sun is bright, shining through the clouds for the first times in days. I smile a little at its appearance.

But my smile fades when I see the form of someone, sitting on the hood of my truck. His face is turned from my direction, so I can't be sure…

But a few hurried steps forward and I know. It's Jasper.

And because of the truce I know I have with him, I instantly calm.

He jumps off the hood when he sees me, grinning from ear to ear. I have no idea what he could be so damn happy about. Part of me, the part that was bullied by him throughout the year, jumps to conclusions. But I push that thought down. Jasper likes me, I'm sure of it.

He yells when we are still ten feet away.

"You're lucky I was out here, Bella. Had to protect the beast against some cowards, too afraid to face you head-on."

I have only a general idea about what he is suggesting. He must be referring to my truck. But I don't want the details. I'm just relieved. The last thing I want is to pay for a smashed headlight, or a new paint job.

He walks right up to me, so that we are face to face. I hope mine shows enough gratitude, because any words I could have said are lodged in my throat. He is still smiling, but I can tell now that it is just for show.

He puts a hand on my shoulder, spinning me around so that his arm is slung over me. I'm too shocked to brush him aside, to push his arm off. And I can see the glint to his eyes, the hard set of his jaw.

He is protecting me, again. Staring down anyone who dares to look our way.

But all I feel is hollow inside.

An hour ago, I had been hurt because this small gesture seemed too big, too difficult, for Edward to make. Instead, the most he thought to do was to phone me, to warn me. What a load of crap. And now Jasper…

No. No, no, no.

It's just wrong. I don't want this pity, or guilt, to be the reason Jasper is here. I don't want Jasper at all. I thought after our run, that morning a few months ago, we could leave our past to the past.

I take a quick step to the side and his arm falls away. I don't think he notices, still glaring at everyone he can.

But when I slam my truck door shut, my only option if I want it to actually close, I see Jasper jump. He hurries over to the driver side, and I crank my window down.

He looks sheepish. Embarrassed.

But I am in fight-mode.

"Why were you by my truck Jasper? Were you waiting for me?"

He replies without hassle. "Yeah."

"And why is that?"

And he is fervent. "Because I have to know. What Esme did. To be personally arrested by the chief, yeah, I figure it has something to do with you. And Edward left as soon as the news got out."

_He left?_

I brush off the thought. "Can you leave it alone, Jasper? I don't…I can't…"

He leans even closer, and I know the emotions swirling through his eyes, darkening his features, is not because of me and my problems.

"Whatever the fuck it is," he whispers the words, "does it have to do with Alice, and why she left?"

My shocked eyes, my small gasp at Jasper's correct and quick-thinking reasoning, tells him all that he needs to know.


	79. Chapter 79

**Usual disclaimer applies.**

* * *

May, 2012

~79~

After one look at my face, bearing all too clearly the truth, Jasper's face darkens further. And he slams his fist into the side of my truck.

"Careful!" I shout. Even though my truck is old, I still care about what it looks like. And wasn't Jasper apparently just protecting my truck from harm anyway?

"Fuck." He mutters, leaning his forehead against the strip of metal beside my door. He looks to me, and I wonder what he can see in my face. I wonder if my pity, my sadness that he too has been dragged down because of Esme, shows as clearly as I think.

Jasper shakes his head at me, mutters another oath, and stalks off.

And the guilt I feel, despite knowing there is no reason for it, causes my appetite to disappear. It's Esme's fault, not mine. I just need to remember that. And I need to remember that it was my mother's actions that were the catalyst, not my own.

~SW~

I set my pen down, knowing I've done as much as I can do with this exam.

My last one.

For the past two weeks since Dad arrested Esme, I have been treated like a disease at school, like if anyone were to go near me, speak to me, God forbid touch me, unbearable harm would come to them. The only people I spoke with frequently were Angela and Ben.

And Sam. I guess finding out my Dad arrested the queen of the East-end put me in his good books again.

Whatever.

I appreciated the solitude, the fact that I could go to school and concentrate on my finals, not the bullshit my classmates are always spewing. I appreciated that apparently Jasper had stood up for me whenever anyone got any ideas, and after a few days of that, everyone backed off.

The stress of finals is more than enough anyway.

Because unless I get perfect marks on my tests, I cannot guarantee getting the scholarship. I cannot guarantee that I will even be attending college next year.

It's all I can think about, and I'm grateful. It allows me to ignore my confusing emotions regarding Esme. It allows me to ignore Edward, the entire Cullen family, and the rumours that have begun ever since that morning Dad arrested Esme.

Because in a town this small, it is practically impossible to not hear the rumours.

Fortunately, people tend to turn their voices to whispers whenever I walk by.

Like I said, whatever.

But yeah. The rumours. At first I thought the town would be throwing my family under the bus. But as it turns out. they don't care who they are talking about, saying malicious things about—even the Cullen's.

Esme refuses to leave her house at all. After being granted bail the day after her arrest, Esme had made a feeble attempt at her regular life. After spending her morning grocery shopping and her afternoon at the spa. I heard she could take it no longer.

Luckily for her, the Cullen's personal shopper can do all of the legwork for her.

But I can't help but feel a bit smug that the perfect, high-class Esme Cullen, has been reduced to this. Even though I know it's petty of me.

I'm only human after all.

I try to smother the—well frankly, elation—when I see Edward. I try to tame my thoughts and remember that Esme's great fallout isn't all rainbows to the people involved.

I can't imagine what home must be like for Edward right now.

The bell rings, jolting me from my thoughts. With this exam over with, my fate is now in the hands of my educators, and out of mine.

It's a relief.

And after I get through graduation in three days, I will finally be free of this place forever.

Free from my classmates, free from Forks.

* * *

**A/N: Hey, everyone! Thanks for the reviews the last few chapters. I get the sense that many of you are not impressed with Edward, and I totally agree. He is definitely still acting like he has for the entire year. Even though things that somewhat cleared up between him and Bella, it would be unrealistic for his character to change too drastically. Make sense?**

**Thanks for still sticking with me, even with the slow updates! Teaching full time for the first time ever is definitely time-consuming! **


	80. Chapter 80

**Usual disclaimer applies.**

* * *

May, 2012

~80~

My alarm beeps gratingly in my ear, and I slap it away, rolling over with a groan.

Graduation Day.

I burrow my face into the pillow. My blankets make a warm cocoon around me that I doubt I'll ever want to leave. It is so easy to fall back asleep…

_My door opens swiftly, and I know it's Edward. If it were my dad the door would be cautiously maneuvered, first only an inch or two, enough for him to peak his head in. He is leery ever since catching Edward and I making out in my bed. _

_But really, only Edward's shirt had been off. That isn't so bad, is it?_

_Suddenly I am squished under the weight of him, his body pressing into mine, his hands tickling my ribs. _

"_Where's my hello, huh? What's going on in that beautiful head of yours?"_

_I giggle under his intruding fingers, wriggling and trying to escape._

_But not really._

_Edward flops over onto his back, one hand under his head, the other fingering my hair. I curl my body around his, letting my head rest on his chest, my legs intertwine with his._

_It feels like home._

"_I can't wait to be done of this place. To just get out of here."_

_I turn my head so I can see his expression, wondering what made him convey this thought _this _time._

_But his face gives nothing away._

_And once again, like every time he has brought the future up, I feel my stomach drop._

_Because for him, it is so simple. He could go anywhere. And every place I would be able to afford wouldn't be good enough; wouldn't be near his potential. Hell, just last week Esme hinted that Edward study in Italy for a semester._

_Italy!_

"_Forks really that bad?" My voice is small, timid. Trying to be strong and funny._

_And Edward understands immediately._

"_No, Bella. No. I'm sorry. I'm an ass. When I say to get out of this place, you know I mean with you, right? Nowhere on this planet would be anything without you." He speaks hurriedly, ashamed. But I have heard it before. And despite his declaration, the pure honesty in his voice, I really don't think he would be very happy with just the University of Washington if that was all I could afford._

_But I can't let him go on feeling guilty. "I just meant that, well, what brought it up this time?"_

_Edward just quirks a brow._

"_Your parents?" I surmise. _

_He nods stiffly._

"_Edward, if you would just tell me what they do that is so horrible…"_

_But I can already tell that once again, he won't give me a satisfactory answer._

Trying to stifle a gasp, I sit up quickly, tangled in my bedding and shocked at my dream.

I haven't had one of these dreams in months.

The unnerving dreams that consist only of vivid memories. Where I feel like I'm back there, like it's happening _now_. Even upon waking, it's hard to remember that _that_ is not my reality; not anymore. Back when these dreams came a few times each week, I had been a mess, being forced to relive memories of Edward when all I wanted to do was forget.

It has been easier to not think about him, to ignore him, without the dreams.

I can only hope that this is a one-time deal.

Perhaps today's special occasion brought it on, made me remember how I had felt about graduating back then, back when staying with Edward after high school meant everything to me, obsessed me.

I hate to think about any other possibility for why I would be dreaming about Edward.

Rolling off of my bed, my safe haven, I quickly begin preparation for the day, eager to have it over with. It will be during the ceremony while I am walking across the stage that the announcement will be made concerning if I receive the Cullen Scholarship or not, and I can't tell if I'm excited about it or ready to throw up with nervousness.

I slip on a creamy yellow sundress, one from the days where I cared about how I looked, or perhaps what others thought about my appearance. It doesn't suit me at all anymore and I already feel uncomfortable displaying so much skin, but it is really the only thing I still own that could qualify as semi-formal material. I can at least take comfort in knowing my black gown will be covering it.

I catch the smallest trace, the delicious aroma, of what could only be my Dad's pancakes. They are one thing he knows how to cook well, and I smile instantly. Suddenly I feel ready to face the day.

* * *

**A/N: Do you remember the day you graduated?**

**Thanks again for sticking with me!**

**And stay safe.**


	81. Chapter 81

**A/N: Characters belong to SM.**

* * *

May, 2012

~81~

I wait impatiently behind Jessica Stanley, trying not to gag on the overabundance of perfume that she apparently thought was necessary for crossing the stage.

This is it.

I'm only minutes away from finding out what my future holds for the next four years.

Will I be able to leave and attend Stanford; the school that I've wanted to go ever since I was eight year old and first watched my dad in court, knowing at that moment that Law was where I was destined to be?

Or will I have to stay in Forks, working two jobs and gathering small scholarships that can eventually add up to enough; enough to attend a school nearby with a relatively decent Law program?

Once Jessica crosses the stage, it is my turn.

I hear my name being called and it is something that I both want to run _towards_, and far away _from_. How can my entire future rest on what the principal will say within the next minute?

Taking a deep, cleansing breath, I walk out onto the stage and cross it without tripping, stumbling, or looking down. The principal reads my name once more, and follows it with:

"Isabella had the highest academic standing in her class. Therefore, she has been awarded the Cullen Scholarship for this…"

And anything else that he says, and I know he is still talking because his lips are moving, doesn't register. In fact, I think I'm frozen in shock.

_Isabella had the highest academic standing in her class. Therefore, she has been awarded the Cullen Scholarship_

_Isabella had the highest academic standing in her class. Therefore, she has been awarded the Cullen Scholarship_

I shake the principal's hand, still in shock, his words ringing through my head. My diploma is placed in my other hand, I exit the stage, and find myself right in my dad's arms.

"Dad?" I question, in a daze, "What are you doing here? Why aren't you in your seat? Why…"

"Bella, Bella! You're forgetting something," Dad snickers, the biggest smile that I have ever seen lighting his face, "I'm the Chief of Police, remember? I can do whatever I like, and right now I want to give my brilliant, beautiful, wonderful daughter a hug."

I laugh, and find myself spinning in his arms, both of us giggling and acting like children. After a few moments, I kiss him on the cheek and we part once again, Dad going back to his seat and me finding my own, with the graduates at the front of the auditorium. Luckily, there are only a few students left to graduate, and it seems like no time passes at all before our class is announced and my peers toss their caps up into the air. Still in shock, I miss this memo and belatedly drop mine to the floor.

I stand up once the applause and cheers dies down and Angela and Ben find me right away.

"Bella!" Angela cries, squeezing me hard. "I'm _so_ proud of you. You did it girl!"

I nod, still in the hug, and peer over her shoulder.

And my eyes light upon Esme and Carlisle Cullen, standing all alone about twenty feet away.

Where before Esme dressed flashy, always being sure to gain the attention from everyone in the room, she is currently wearing a dress that is just…subdued. A pale grey, plain dress that does nothing for her figure, Emse really just looks washed-out, and blends into the walls of the room.

I also can't help but notice the body language between Esme and Carlisle. They stand a good two feet apart, turning their bodies slightly away from each other. Neither are smiling, or speaking. In fact, both are staring at the floor, not even looking for their son.

And on the inside, at first I can't help but feel gleeful at their misfortune. However, thinking about Alice and Edward, a pang strikes my heart. No matter what, they don't deserve the obvious dysfunction that exists in their family.

At least Alice is thousands of miles away.

I look away from Esme and Carlisle as Angela pulls away from the hug, and push thoughts of the Cullen's from my mind. I need to forget about them, at least for today. Because today, I'm celebrating my graduation and scholarship with my number one man, my Dad.

* * *

**A/N: Hey guys! If you haven't looked at my profile, I've been traveling in southeast Asia for the past four months and that is why this story has been on hiatus. Sorry about that, it should update quite frequently now. Also, be sure to look out for a new story of mine that I will be posting right away!**


	82. Chapter 82

**A/N: All characters belong to SM.**

* * *

May, 2012

~82~

The rest of my graduation day goes off without a hitch. The euphoria of receiving the Cullen Scholarship has me floating on air, the proverbial ray of sunlight shining down on me. The grin on Dad's face has yet to dissipate and I can feel my cheeks tiring from my own perpetual smile.

It's absolutely wonderful.

Not even the thought of meeting with Esme and Carlisle to receive the fat cheque can put a damper on my spirits. I am not a resentful or grudging person, yet my smile can't help but expand ever so slightly at the thought of receiving money from the people who have made my life oh so difficult the past few years.

Especially when I'm the last person that they would want to receive the scholarship.

After leaving the auditorium, Dad and I make our way to The Lodge, Dad's favourite restaurant. We find a booth in the back, both of us trying to avoid any other families with graduating kids who might also be celebrating.

Dad orders a steak, rare, with mashed potatoes and steamed vegetables.

I order a pasta dish that looks good, secretly more excited for the piece of garlic bread that will accompany it.

We talk about mundane things, and then about next year. We discuss how often I plan on visiting home, or how often Dad will be able to come visit me.

I will be in California after all so I don't expect it to be all that often. Christmas and Easter. That's it.

We converse of how living the dorm life will be, and how I don't need to worry about food since I already buy the groceries and cook most of the time at home anyways. Dad mentions over and over how well I will do, how he has every confidence that I will be successful.

I think he is right.

But apart from my excitement to get started, to begin law, what I am really looking forward to is finally leaving Forks, to never having to see any of the people here for any length of time ever again. Now, if I could only convince Dad of the same thing, then I'd be set.

Once we return back to the apartment, I immediately rush into my room to take off my yellow dress; the tag has been irritating the back of my neck all day. Once I have put on a pair of cut-off jean shorts and a loose, navy t-shirt with "Forks Police" inscribed on the front, I head back downstairs where Dad already has a game on, blaring through the speakers of the television.

I fall down beside him and lean my head against his shoulder. He wriggles him arm so that it rests along the back of the couch, and I slowly melt in deeper.

I must fall asleep to the hypnotic voices of the commentators because I instantly jump awake to the sound of the doorbell.

Dad chuckles at my reaction before slowly extricating himself from the sofa.

"I'll get it Sweetie. Hang tight"

My head falls back, and I'm glad I can submit once again to the gentle pulls of slumber.

But it quickly snaps up again at Dad's icy, sharp voice.

"Isabella? It's for you."


End file.
